


Tracks in the Desert

by thecatsred



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amputation, Animal Harm (mentioned off screen), Blending of Myths, Coyote Spirit Jesse McCree, Crime Scenes, Cryptid Hunting, Cryptids, Distressed Dragon Spirits, Dragon Spirits, Gore, Happy Ending, Lots of mention of Night/The Dark/Stars, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soul Sharing, Strangers to Friends (to Lovers), Supernatural Elements, Violence, mention of depression, myths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-04-08 02:30:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14095131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecatsred/pseuds/thecatsred
Summary: Hanzo and Genji come from a famous family of hunters that travel the world talking care of supernatural creatures causing the locals issues, or exposing hoaxes. The entire extended Shimada family takes part in the business, but only the immediate family has that special something extra that gives them the upper hand. It is both a blessing and a curse when the Shimadas are called upon a city, as they will either confirm the presence of the creatures and find a way to contain them or appease them, or they will uncover a hoax many generations in the making and drive all tourism out.The brothers rarely travel overseas, but a particular case of an old spirit suddenly going rogue in the American Southwest catches their attention. When they are asked to come investigate by their contacts in the states, they quickly pack up and make their way over to a small town outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. What they discover there has them working faster than they've ever worked before to stop more tragedy from befalling this quiet town.





	1. Dust

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! Here's a story that's been kicking around in my brain since last summer. I'll be posting chapters every 2-3 weeks until it's finished. I'm not entirely sure the final chapter count, but it should be somewhere around 10 or so? We'll see. 
> 
> Please, heed the tags - they are there for a reason! I tried to tag for anything I could come up with that could be bothersome to people, but if you see something I've missed please let me know so I can add it. 
> 
> Thanks and Enjoy! ♥

The moon hangs low and heavy in the desert sky, casting long-reaching shadows across the desert landscape. There’s hardly a breeze, but the night air is cold regardless. 

A woman lies broken and dying in the dirt, choking on her own blood, her screams long since silenced with shock. A dark wolf circles her body, watching, waiting.

It brings its bloodied maw close to her face, teeth stained and bared, mouth opening further and further until the woman is certain the last thing she’ll see is the inside of this creature’s mouth.

Then the wolf freezes, its head going up and ears laying flat against its head. It growls, taking a few steps backwards, disturbing the ground beneath with its claws before it turns tail and runs. Spooked, but by what?

The woman watches the wolf until she can see it no longer, swallowed by the shadow all around her. Her vision blurs at the edges, fading in and out, but she pays it no mind. She’s come to terms with her fate. At least she could die with a shred of dignity left.

Not a minute later, she catches movement off to her side and turns her head as much as she dares. Has that wretched creature returned?

She breathes a sigh of relief when she sees it. The corners of her mouth turn into a smile, the best she can muster. “Ah, it’s you.”

A coyote approaches, larger than any she had ever seen. Larger than any she will see again. She’d heard the stories growing up. Took them for old tales passed down by her grandmother to keep their culture alive. She’d even told them to her own children, never in her life thinking she would meet the subject itself.

She reaches out weakly, fingertips not quite curling how she wants them to, but the Coyote bends down anyway. It seems to regard her for a moment, head tilted to the side, and she feels like she must do something with the moment of lucidity she’s been afforded. “Thank you,” She closes her eyes.

With a gentle press of its nose against her palm, the woman fades out of existence quietly, peacefully. The Coyote stands there a moment, staring at the bare dirt, the pawprints left by the other, before turning back from where it came. It leaves no evidence behind, and melds back into the yawning landscape effortlessly.


	2. Sheriff and the Coyote

Unsteady gravel crunching under the tires wakes Genji up from his nap. His jacket slides down his face into his lap as he adjusts his seat. “We there yet?” He asks, voice just as crackly as the road. He glances around. 

They weren't on the highway anymore. Instead, they were likely driving down one of the service roads, probably to keep out the way of the numerous truckers Genji remembers passing earlier in the night. Hanzo sits next to him silently, not entertaining Genji’s question, his face illuminated by the lights coming off the dash. 

The sky's still mostly dark, though a pinkish glow pours over the empty landscape in waves the longer Genji keeps watch. Light gets broken up by the occasional cactus in the distance, or the nearby shrubs that seem to multiply the closer to their destination they get.

And once, as the sun finally breaches the surface, Genji swears he sees a massive shape moving across the cracked earth, but when he closes his eyes for a second, it’s gone.

 

\--

 

“Ah,” Genji thrusts his hand across Hanzo’s field of view, earning a half-hearted grumble from his brother. “Turn here, at this sign, the motel should be around the corner.” Genji thumbs his phone some more, trying to make sure he wasn’t leading Hanzo down yet  _ another _ dead end. 

“Are you certain this time?” 

Genji nods, trying his best to squint through the first rays of the morning sun. “This town isn’t really mapped out like the others, but uh,” He pulls his hand up. A buzzing, red sign juts out from the side of a rundown looking building. “That’s got to be it, right?” 

Hanzo glances up, lips pressed together. “I doubt this town will have more than one motel, unfortunately.” He pulls off the main road into a beaten up parking lot, expertly swerving around various potholes and sections of the asphalt that had been taken over by hostile looking vegetation. “Go get us checked in, I’ll get the gear from the truck.”

When they get to their room, it’s not dim and musty like how Hanzo had expected. Instead, the windows, while covered in a thin layer of dust on the outside, let in the sun and brighten up the space. Two beds sit against one wall, with a table on the opposite side next to the bathroom door. The carpet and bedding is clean, though a little worn. There are scuff marks on the table where Hanzo sets the equipment. But in all, it’s a decent place to spend the next several days, if it came to that.

He had his doubts, though. Most of these ‘sightings’ felt more like animal attacks, not much supernatural about the remains or on the reports he saw. But there’s been other activity in the area, for years, decades prior, that pulled Genji’s interest in the place, and well. If Genji won’t let a potential job go, Hanzo will inevitably end up accompanying him one way or another. 

It’s just that normally these sorts of jobs don’t pull him all the way out to the States. 

“Let’s get some sleep before we head out for the day.” Hanzo says to Genji’s retreating back. Genji has the bathroom door shut before he can say more, but a sound from inside feels enough like an ‘okay’ that Hanzo accepts it for what it is. 

Genji emerges fresh from a shower to Hanzo lying face down on a bed, fast asleep. He’d apparently taken the time to kick off his boots, at least. Genji snorts, shaking his head, then strips the other bed of its quilt and piles it on top of Hanzo’s face. His brother doesn’t even stir. 

 

\--

 

When Hanzo awakens some time later, it takes him longer than he’d care to admit to figure out where he was. The world greeting him with only blackness has his nerves on edge, but once he realizes the reason he woke in the first place was because he couldn’t breathe, he pulls the blanket off his face and sits up, looking around the room. Genji’s sleeping back is to him, and though the sun shines in through a gap in the curtains, Hanzo feels like he could keep sleeping for hours more.

The sunbeam reveals flecks of dust and dirt floating in the air that his wrestling with the blanket kicked up. Hanzo watches it in a lull for a while longer, almost falling back asleep, but one quick check of his phone has him sighing and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He wouldn’t bother Genji, not yet. It was still too early to do much investigation, but the grumbling of his stomach as he laces his boots could not be ignored. 

There had to be a food place somewhere nearby. This town was originally a truck stop, Genji had told him, so there was bound to be a place within walking distance of the nearest motel. Right?

Hanzo locks the door behind himself carefully and pockets the key, talking a stock of his surroundings for the first time since arriving. There are squat decorative cactus lining the edge of the building, with wide scrub brush peeking from the dirt elsewhere. The motel sat just off the main road down its own street. Hanzo watches a few old cars and pickups passing by at a leisurely pace and decides he’d have more luck walking the way most of them were going.

He sees some little shops in a row, none of them open just yet, but there were people inside, setting up for the day. An elderly woman walks an equally elderly dog across the street, pausing to look Hanzo’s way when her dog stops to sniff something on the ground. She gives him a polite, curious smile that he returns without thinking. 

Somewhere down way he picks up the scent of greasy breakfast foods, and his stomach reminds him why he's out so early in the first place. 

He finds the diner easily enough, on the corner of a street that leads down into some houses. A single car sits lonely in the parking lot. Hanzo pushes through the doors and gets the distinct feeling that the retro look inside is real and not false charm. 

A cheery woman with rounded cheeks greets him once he slides into the closest booth. She flips a mug in front of him and fills it full of hot coffee without Hanzo saying a word, collecting the extra cup off the table once she’s done. “Passing through?”

Hanzo pulls the coffee close and dumps in enough sugar to rot teeth. “That obvious, am I?”

The woman smiles, eyes sharp and knowing. “Pardon me for sayin’, but you don't look much like the truckers out here, too put together.”

Hanzo doesn't mention he slept in his clothes.

“...and I know I ain't never seen you before.” She pulls a menu out from behind the salt and pepper and sets it down. “Nobody sticks around this town ‘cept the sorry folk who live here, so you must be passing through.”

Hanzo smiles. “You're mostly right. I'm here on business. Should only take a few days.”

She nods. “Like I said.” She taps her notepad with her pen and points at her nametag. “Well then, I'm Rosita. Just holler when you're ready.”

Hanzo makes some sort of noncommittal noise in his throat, already distracted by the brightly colored menu that was just slightly too sticky in some spots. He looks up at the sound of a giggle, chiding himself for having not realized there were more people in the diner. His entire career was built around being observant, so he really has no excuse. 

He frowns, eyes catching the back of a child’s head, and across from him sits a man with broad shoulders and a tired look about him. He’s got his hands folded around his coffee mug like a lifeline. For a second, Hanzo feels like he can’t focus on him at all, and then the child squeals, delighted. 

Rosita shuffles over, hands on her hips.

“Don't bother Jesse none t’day, boy, he looks like he's had a long night.” 

The child, a boy no older than eight, Hanzo guesses, pouts and crosses his arms. “But I ain’t bothering him, Mrs. Juarez! He don’t mind me being here.”

The man in question huffs and reaches up to the brim of his hat, pulling it down over his eyes. 

Rosita looks entirely unconvinced. “Your mama know you’re skipping school again? Think I outta tell her you’d rather be up here?” She inches over to the phone hanging on the wall, acting like she was about to pick it up. “Think maybe I can set you up with some work if you’re so inclined on being in my diner...” 

The child whines and drags himself out of the booth. “Please don’t tell Mama, I promise I’ll go right back!” He says turning and giving the man a friendly little wave. He kicks his feet on the ground as he passes Hanzo by on the way out.

Rosita clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “Sorry for that. How you holding up?” She touches the table gently. 

Hanzo watches as this man, Jesse, shrugs and spins the mug a few times. “Been busy,” He says. Hanzo’s arm tingles, fingers flexing without him meaning to. His breath catches in his throat, giving him away suddenly as two pairs of eyes turn to him.

“You ready to order, honey?” Rosita calls, pulling out her notepad with a smile. Jesse still has not moved, and Hanzo orders in a haze, unable to look away from this man that is both present and also  _ not _ . If anything seemed off about his actions, Rosita doesn’t comment on it as she heads to the back. 

Jesse blinks hard then, as if he had forgotten to do so for a while. Hanzo quickly stares down at his coffee, the momentary respite from that molten gaze enough to pull him from his stupor. He was never so out of it in the morning.  _ What was going on…? _

Jesse tips back the last of his coffee and slides from the booth. Rosita gives him a kind smile and dips her head in thanks when he hands her a sizable bill. 

“Stay out of too much trouble.” She calls to him, teasing. He turns and tips his hat at her with a grin, then directs that stare back at Hanzo. He can feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck. Hanzo doesn’t dare move, keeps his eyes trained on the mug in front of him and nothing else. He almost doesn’t breathe. 

The sound of the door opening and closing has him exhaling, sinking further into the booth and letting the spike in anxiety drain from him.

Hanzo’s not sure how much time passed after that, but Rosita comes over with his plate and a refill, and he eats mechanically, still feeling lost after that encounter. 

 

\--

 

“Were you out all morning?” Genji asks when Hanzo finally makes it back to the motel. He’s gotten his laptop set up and a binder with printed notes categorized for easy access. “I thought you fell asleep.”

Hanzo sits down on his bed heavily. “No, I got some rest.”  _ Three hours was enough, right? _ “I was hungry.”

“Huh?” Genji whips his head up. “You got breakfast without me?”

“You were asleep.”

“Still!” Genji protests, frowning. He types something and closes his laptop, sliding it into his bag. “I guess I’ll just grab something later. Did you want to head out now?”

Hanzo hasn’t moved. “Yeah, might as well. You have the location of the last known attack site?”

“Got it right here,” Genji hands over a slip of paper. “Happened a bit out of the way, but it’s a short trip if you drive out. Want me to come with you? Two pairs of eyes can’t hurt.”

Hanzo shakes his head, shoving the paper in his pocket and slinging a backpack over his shoulders. “No, you go ahead and talk with the people around here. You’re more...personable. I think I’ve already made a bad first impression.”

Genji balks. “How? We’ve only been here a couple of hours. Did something happen?”

“Nothing like that, it’s just…” He shrugs. “There’s a weird energy in this place, but I don’t think it’s connected to anything supernatural. Small towns are... _ strange _ .”

Something on Genji’s face tells Hanzo he doesn’t believe him, but Genji doesn’t press the matter so he doesn’t elaborate, merely putting his run-in at the diner up to the early hour and the lack of sleep. 

“How much have you looked into about the local legends here?” Hanzo asks on his way to his truck. Genji’s got his laptop bag across his chest and has a small tablet in his hands. He smiles.

“There’s a lot of information on the main one here, actually. Seems like it goes by many names, but most just call it the Coyote.”

“Descriptive.”

Genji laughs. “Well, it’s supposed to be this massive, hulking creature that roams the desert at night. It follows death.”

Hanzo frowns, unlocks his truck and tosses his bag into the passenger seat carelessly. “What do you mean? It kills?”

“Ah, not from what I can tell. It uh…” He taps something on the screen and squints. “It’s more like...putting things out of their misery.”

“So it kills.” Hanzo narrows his eyes.

“No! Not really? The locals respect it. Normally, when you’re dealing with coyotes, they are like, tricksters, you know? Assholes, most of them.”

Hanzo just nods, hand on his door. 

“Well, this one, it’s more about keeping its land in order. So anything that’s suffering, sick, dying, that sort of thing-”

“It kills.”

Genji sighs, lowering his tablet. “Yeah, it kills. But it’s a mercy killing. These things would die anyway, so...It lets stuff die peacefully.”

Hanzo twists his mouth. “There’s evidence of this spirit?”

That’s where Genji loses some of his enthusiasm. “Err, well. Not exactly. There’s been sick livestock disappearances, elderly family pets, all attributed to this creature. It’s hard to really get more information on this spirit since it’s such a local phenomenon. Not many have researched it.”

“Is that your plan for the day, then?” Hanzo asks, hefting himself into his truck. 

“Mhm, I figure I can ask around. People who live here...if this spirit is for real, they ought to have better information. First-hand accounts… all of that, right?”

Hanzo starts his truck. “Yeah. Well, when you’re done, call me. I’m going to see what I can find at this old attack site.”

“Alright. If I don’t call before you’re done, you do the same, okay?”

Hanzo gives his brother a quick smile and pulls away, heading to the location just outside of the town.

 

\--

 

When he arrives, there’s no tape blocking the area off, just a few yellow flags shoved in the dirt here and there. It’s barren all around, save for the short, unfriendly plants protruding from the ground. He parks a ways away, making sure not to run over anything. 

The police in town must have gone over everything thoroughly, gathered what they could find, took pictures… Hanzo would have to see if he could get access to some of those records. They could prove useful. Not that he had a real way to convince the police force here he had any sort of right to those records. Maybe sic Genji on them...he could talk his way into  _ anywhere _ .

Hanzo is crouched near a small flag, his cell held out, snapping a few pictures of an indent in the ground, when a voice, clear and authoritative, rings out from behind him. To his credit, he does  _ not  _ drop his phone. 

“Just what are you doing at  _ my  _ crime scene?” 

Hanzo swivels around, boots kicking up dust when he rises. “I-”

“Who are you?” A woman stands straight and tall only a few yards behind him, arms crossed and a frown twisting her lips. She’s got her dark hair pulled into a tight and low ponytail, giving her a bit of a sharp appearance. How he managed to completely miss her approach was beyond him. He was slipping. 

“I am Shimada Hanzo,” He starts again, looking over the woman with a critical eye. A badge catches the light just under her jacket, and he straightens up. “I investigate-”

She flips her hand at him, effectively cutting him off, and starts to walk around to the other side of the scene, never taking her eyes off him. “So, our little problem has finally made the papers I see. Where are you from? Santa Fe? I expected most of the tourists wouldn’t go directly to the site of someone’s  _ death _ , but it seems like you people are just full of surprises.”

Hanzo shakes his head, watches as she makes another circuit around the site, around him. “No, that’s not what I am doing here.” He says, frustration clear in his tone. 

This makes her pause, an eyebrow raised as she eyes him critically. “So why, exactly, are you skulking around here then?” 

“I am here to investigate these deaths, to try and determine their origins.”

The woman seems unimpressed. She walks up to Hanzo’s truck, and beckons him over from the site. He follows uncertainly, stopping a few feet from her.

“We don’t need any help, my men and I have got this under control. I don’t need another team coming in and mucking up all our hard work. Tell your people we can handle ourselves.” She gives Hanzo a look that makes him shrink a little and turns to walk away. 

“Wait!” He calls, suddenly feeling like he’s about to let a lead slip through his fingers. “You have a badge, are you on the police force?”

She snorts a laugh and pushes the edge of her jacket out of the way. “Saw that, did you? Yes. I’m the sheriff here. If you have any complaints, drop them in my deputy’s mailbox.” with that she turns to make her way to the cruiser he hadn't noticed before. Had it been there this whole time?

“No, wait, hold on!” Hanzo jogs out in front of her, his hands up. She narrows her eyes and her frown deepens. “Sorry, but, your department could really help my case. Please, let me call my brother, he can tell you the rest. At least hear us out.”

For a moment, the woman still seems uninterested. She looks Hanzo over again, a critical gleam in her eye, before she rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Fine, what the hell.”  She holds out one hand with a polite smile. “Madison Wilde, Sheriff.” When he takes her hand her grip is much stronger than he expects. 

She turns back in the direction of the town. “Bring your brother and meet me outside my office, and we can discuss things further. Try not to waste my time.”

Hanzo watches her walk over to her own vehicle before he slides back into his truck, feeling blindsided and discreetly flexing his hand. He has his phone out before he even turns back on the main road, Genji’s cheerful greeting pulling him from his haze.

 

\--

 

Hanzo hadn’t been listening properly since he and Genji met up with the Sheriff, as Genji had gone into his regular spiel. As soon as his brother had gotten out of the car the Sheriff’s attitude had changed. Apparently she was a fan. While Genji tried to charm the woman into giving them more information Hanzo tried to focus himself. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something in this place wasn’t  _ right. _ He didn’t like it.

“-could help us! A sheriff would have access to plenty of off limits information. Right?” Genji turns towards Madison, a hopeful look on his face.

“Of course.” She says with a warm smile. “To be honest I’m surprised our little town managed to catch your attention Mr. Shimada. I’ve been a fan for a while now, you don’t do much in the states do you?”

Genji grins widely, leaning closer in a flirtatious manner, and Hanzo can't help but snort. His brother really was weak for a pretty face. 

“Just Genji is fine,” Genji says, still smiling. “I'm so happy you're familiar with our work. We should talk over our best hunts after we get this sorted.” He seems to sober up then. “Do you have a name for this creature? You said it’s well known in the area.”

Madison presses her lips together. “The locals have taken to calling it The Butcher Beast. They think it's a separate entity to their beloved spirit.”

Hanzo hums while Genji takes down some notes on his tablet.

“And what do you think it is, Sheriff?” Hanzo asks, watching the woman with a critical eye. “I'm sure you've come up with a different conclusion, given your experience. Otherwise you wouldn’t be entertaining us right now.”

Madison seems pleased by Hanzo's words, her chin tilted up higher than before. “You're correct in that assumption. I have been telling people it’s probably a wild dog, possibly rabid. Local vet’s been giving out a special on vaccines and everything.” She shook her head at that with a laugh.

“...but?” Hanzo raises a brow.

“That’s obviously not what we have on our hands, gentlemen. This creature does not eat its prey, it hunts for sport. It toys with its victims and the bodies I’ve found all point to the victims dying slowly, with no substantial meat or bone missing. That indicates intelligence. Almost like it’s doing this for fun.” Madison crosses her arms and cocks her head at him, looking between Genji and Hanzo with all traces of her previous mirth gone. “I can’t be sure if this thing and the Coyote are one in the same but I think it’s an awful big coincidence for such a small town. Something must have set it off, and now it’s attacking. It needs to be dealt with.” 

Genji nods, finishing his notes with a bit of a flourish. “Makes sense. We’ve had some previously benign spirits turn on people before. Reasons are always different, but the outcome’s the same. People get hurt. That could be the same thing going on here.” He gives Hanzo a look before continuing. “If my brother hasn’t already offered, we’d like to formally work with you on this case. It seems you’ve got knowledge of the local myths, and experience with the creatures at hand.” He holds out his hand with a smile. “The Shimada brothers are at your disposal, Ms. Sheriff.”’

Madison reaches out, accepting the handshake with a firm enough grip that Genji looks a little surprised by it. “Excellent. I will-” The clicking sound of a lighter cuts through their conversation. Madison pauses, dropping Genji’s hand suddenly and turning on her heel. She holds up one finger. “Give me a moment,” She says, marching across the street with a purposeful set to her shoulders. 

Hanzo watches her approach a man at the corner who is smoking a cigar of some sort, looking like he was just enjoying the morning sun. His eyes trace over the man’s long legs straight up to the cowboy hat perched on his head. He squints, realizing with a start he’s the same man, Jesse, that he saw at the diner earlier.

Since he was a little more awake, he could take his time looking at this stranger. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary with him now. Hanzo watches as Jesse takes a long draw from his cigar and he gives an appreciative hum that Genji unfortunately catches. 

“He’s caught your eye, has he?” Genji hedges, sliding up alongside Hanzo to watch the events unfold.

Hanzo is quick to shake his head as Madison approaches the man. “Absolutely not. We’ve more pressing things to take care of first.”

“But what about after?”

Hanzo barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. “I cannot afford any distractions.” He says, then he shushes Genji when Madison’s voice rings loud and clear in the street. She’s put her hands on her hips and shifted over to the side in a very cop-like manner. 

“You know damn well loitering is illegal here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She taps one foot for emphasis. 

Jesse gives both Hanzo and Genji a brief glance before he flicks his cigar on the ground with a huff. “Whatever,” He grumbles, voice deep and tired sounding. He walks off, annoyed. 

Madison waits for Jesse to round the corner before she comes back over, shaking her head. “Local nuisance.” She says. Hanzo watches how the lines by her eyes make her face look tight, almost as if she was scared.  _ Interesting _ .

“Anyway,” Madison starts. “Call me if you need something, no matter what it is. I’ll try and keep you both up to date on anything suspicious.” She turns her head towards the way Jesse left, but only barely. “This is my card, if I’m not in my office, it has my cell number as well.”

Genji smiles and slips the card into his breast pocket. “Thank you. For now, I was planning on using your library. Are there any files there I’d need permission to view?”

Madison pauses. “There are. I’ll call ahead now and give you access.” She smiles. “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” She turns, giving Genji a nod on her way up the steps into the small police station. 

Hanzo and Genji exchange a look, and Genji just shrugs. “Come on,” Hanzo says, heading to his truck. 

 

\--

 

“I don’t know how you did it, Genji. That woman had absolutely no interest in working with anyone else, but the second you started talking...she accepted help just like that. No hesitation.” Hanzo is sitting at the desk, phone out, along with a book Genji had given him to look through. 

“It helps to have charm, brother. I could teach you some time.” He laughs, sitting cross-legged on the bed. “A little glitz and some smooth talking with get you everywhere in life. Remember that.” Genji points a pen in Hanzo’s direction, and Hanzo has to fight not to stick his tongue out at him like a child. 

“I do just fine as I am.” He says haughtily. 

“Sure you do,” He shakes his head. “Plus, people know me. See how she looked when she said she was a fan? That’s star power. You could do well for yourself if you made a blog, too.”

Hanzo grimaces. “No, that’s too much work. That’s something you like to do, not me.”

Genji hums and slides a hand through his hair. “True. I  _ am  _ more beautiful, I doubt you’d get as much of a following.”

“Spare me.” Hanzo says dryly. 

“So,” Genji starts again a moment later, tone all business. Hanzo sits up in the chair, giving Genji his undivided attention. “I don’t know about her theory.”

“No? It makes sense to me. I don’t know if I buy that there’s anything here but a few hungry wild dogs, but if it’s anything, it makes sense that it’s an old spirit turned bad. How many times does that happen?”

Genji frowns, eyebrows drawn together. “Often, true, but-”

“Then it stands to reason that’s the source of this town’s turmoil.”

Genji shakes his head. “But that’s the problem! Everything I’ve gotten on the town’s Coyote has been...benevolent. Normally coyote spirits aren’t like this, so when this one came about, it came for a purpose. It was needed, not just of the land like most. I don’t see how such a creature could go against its purpose so drastically.” Genji huffs. “It doesn’t follow any of the rules…”

Hanzo turns in his chair, one arm up over the top of it, the other on the desk. “You said this Coyote performs mercy killings, correct?” Genji nods. “So it still  _ does _ kill, then. That’s not outside its abilities.” Genji nods again. “What if the atmosphere of the land it roams has changed? What if this is the spirit lashing out, trying to protect the land it was called to, and the people it kills are a danger to that?”

“Maybe. I’ll need to look up the victims, see if there’s anything tying them together.”

“It’s worth a shot, at least. Tomorrow I’ll see if I can get any information on the killings or this Coyote while you do that.”

Genji doesn’t look up from his laptop, the pen in his hands flipping around in his fingers. “Try not to scare anyone.”

“What-”

“Your face is so severe when you’re working, you know.” Genji smiles. “Don’t want any potential leads running away in terror.”

Hanzo scowls, which only widen’s Genji’s grin. “Then you go talk to people.”

“No, by all means. You love playing detective. Who am I to take that away from you? Just remember,” Genji pauses.

Hanzo waits, one brow raised. 

“These people? They don’t really know of us. They have no reason to respond to your usual methods. They just see us as outsiders, not a powerful family.”

Despite that prickling of anger in Hanzo’s belly, he had to admit. Genji was right. 

Back home, they just had to say their family name, or in most cases, show their faces, and people would bend over backwards to accommodate their hunts. The Shimada family was well known for their work, going back decades, if not centuries, even. They’ve dealt with countless cases, some dangerous, others hoaxes exposed, many benign.

Each time, their notoriety rose, and with it, a sort of celebrity status. Genji had always been the forefront of the two, soaking in his accomplishments, whereas Hanzo preferred his peace. Though he never was one to turn down a taste of the power the position gave him, often getting into places civilians weren’t technically allowed in order to finish a case. There was a rush in that.

“I suppose you’re right.” He concedes, after a moment.

He anticipates Genji’s surprised gasp before he hears it. “Ah! Glad to see you’re finally listening to me.” Genji is smiling, and Hanzo wants to leave.

“Don’t make me regret it.” He turns, marks the page he was on, and stands. “Let’s grab something to eat and turn in early. I still need a proper night’s rest.” 

Genji nods, closing his laptop and following Hanzo outside. 

 

\--

 

That night, after they have a hearty meal comprised of more street tacos than either of them should have eaten on their own and some cold beer, Hanzo lies in his bed, sleep escaping him. 

Genji drifted off hours ago, and Hanzo watches the moon rise over the low buildings and into the sky, past the top of the window. It bathes their room in a soft blue glow, and he finds it almost peaceful, if not for some feeling in his gut that he was being watched. Maybe not right this moment, but there were eyes on him, he was sure of it.

A low howl, distant and all too close, startles him. He opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling. The light in the room hadn’t changed much, so if he drifted off, it was only for a short while, if at all. Another mournful call drifts up from the desert, and Hanzo turns away from the window, folding his pillow over his ear. Coyotes were not uncommon, normally most active in the dead of night, but something about this one’s howl was unsettling. 

Hanzo would not fall into unconsciousness till another hour later, after all the sounds of the night fell silent. 


	3. Chance Meeting

By the time Hanzo could even heft himself out of bed properly, Genji was already off at the library. It took him an unreasonably long time to wake up, and even longer to go through his morning routine. The weight of the case, this town, the dust that covered everything from his truck to his boots had Hanzo feeling heavy, sluggish.

He couldn’t get a good night’s sleep it seemed. The air here was too dry, the world around them too empty, even the humming of the air conditioner couldn’t drown out that haze of deep nothingness.

Hanzo sits with his head hung heavy on his shoulders, forearms draped over his knees. He keeps his eyes closed and tries his best to regulate his breathing. A fading nightmare is what eventually woke him, and the residual fear still racked his body, heart rate much too fast for comfort. He slicks his hair back and pulls the loose locks over his shoulder, using his fingers to detangle it to some degree.

Little red numbers on the table between the two beds blink out 11:34 in a sort of mocking manner, and Hanzo definitely does not tell the alarm to fuck off. If he thinks it, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

Once dressed and more or less alive, Hanzo opts to wander around by foot, instead of taking the truck and having to park any time he saw someone he wanted to speak with. Seemed a little less...desperate that way.

Judging by the heaviness of the sun in the sky, today plans to be a warm one. Hanzo mentally curses himself for not bringing along a hat, or some lighter clothing, but he’d have to make do with what he had. Hopefully their time here wouldn’t be so long, and they could return home and back to their familiar weather.

The sidewalk running through the town is disjointed at best. Sometimes it tapers off into a parking lot, only to reappear again some ways down the street, plants sticking up from cracks every which way, threatening to trip any wayward pedestrians. A shimmer of heat blocks out most of the land in the distance, making the town feel even more isolated than it already was.

Trucks pass him by on the main road, bringing with them overheated air that ruffles Hanzo’s hair. He has no idea where he’s really heading to, just looking for people milling about, or shops that seemed busy. It was almost lunch time, maybe everyone was already sat down to eat…

Hanzo turns a corner, his attention on the building across the street and not where he’s going, and nearly runs into someone. “Whoa there,” The stranger calls, a hand out in Hanzo’s line of sight. He looks up and instantly recognizes him.

“You!”

The man lifts one thick eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Me?”

“You’re that man from yesterday. Jesse.” Hanzo says. He can feel those eyes on him again, and his tattoo tingles. He ignores it for now, his gut not giving him any reason to suspect he was dangerous. Only... _strange_.

“Well now, that sure is my name. Got me feelin’ mighty awkward, though, on account’a I don’t know yours.” He holds out one hand that Hanzo takes without a second thought. His palm is dry, fingers a little rough, but warm.

“Shimada Hanzo. Just uh. Just Hanzo is fine, thank you.”

Jesse shakes his hand twice before releasing it. “Nice t’meet’cha, Hanzo. Seen you an’ that other fella talking with Ms. Sheriff. Gettin’ into trouble already?”

“Ah. No. My brother and I needed help on our case.” He sighs.

“Yer case? What y’all looking into?” Jesse seems so at ease, leaning against a building, hat tipped up enough so Hanzo could see his face better than before. One hand goes into his pocket, dragging out a half finished cigar. He waves it a few times, getting Hanzo’s attention, which had embarrassingly drifted. “Mind if I…?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “Go ahead.” He watches Jesse light up, puffing the cigar to get it going and put his lighter away. He turns his head on the exhale, which Hanzo appreciates, even if the smell of this particular cigar is actually rather pleasant. “The case,” Hanzo starts, and Jesse just hums in response, his eyes closed and head tipped back as he listens. Hanzo watches him swallow.

“The case, it is...how do I put this. You are aware of the deaths in this town, right? Know the victims?”

Jesse opens his eyes, gaze unfocused, and even a little sad. “Sure do. Ain’t nobody here who don’t.”

“My condolences,” Jesse shakes his head, and Hanzo continues. “Well, my brother and I are investigating the circumstances of the crimes. We’re trying to figure out who...or _what_ did this. We’re some of the best in our field.” He says, standing a little taller even if the other man doesn’t take notice.

“And what’s that?” Jesse blows smoke out through his nose, the swirls not quite escaping from under his hat and obscuring his eyes.

“Investigators, just as I said.” Hanzo has no wish to raise alarm throughout the community if he can help it. Nobody but the sheriff needed to know their true purpose here. At least, not at first.

“Uh huh. You an’ yer brother plannin’ on getting this perp on outta here?”

“That’s what we’re here for. We’re working with the sheriff to-”

“Tch,” Jesse pushes off the building and leans down into Hanzo’s space. “Save you some trouble, darlin’. Between you an’ me, that woman ain’t all she’s cracked up to be. Watch yerself, yeah?”

Hanzo bristles, cheeks going hot from the nickname and the implication he was unable to hold his own. “And why should I trust what you say?”

Jesse shrugs, moves the cigar over to the corner of his mouth and smiles. “Not sayin’ you have to. Not even sayin’ you should. Just...watch yerself.” He looks at Hanzo from the corner of his eye. “You got that look about’cha. I know you’ve felt it.”

Hanzo tilts his head to the side. “Felt what?”

“The energy here. Town’s been around a long, long time. Old places like this got history. Laws of nature work differently ‘round these parts. I’d pay attention to that feeling you’ve got brewing in yer gut.” He reaches out, and Hanzo just watches dumbly as Jesse tucks one of his fingers in and taps a knuckle against Hanzo’s chest a few times. “Most people ain’t too amiable to folks they don’t know.”

“And I suppose you’re different?” Hanzo asks, taking a step back more for show than anything.

Jesse plucks the cigar from his mouth, blows out another plume of smoke, and taps the end of it against the brick to snuff it out. “Suppose I am.” He looks Hanzo over again, sizing him up almost. “Could say the same of you.”

Hanzo allows himself a small smile. “You could.” He watches Jesse put his cigar away. “I uh, I need to get going.” Hanzo motions vaguely back the way he came.

“Sure thing, I’ll see ya ‘round.” Jesse doesn’t look like he’s planning on moving from the side of the building any time soon.

Hanzo clears his throat and gives Jesse a nod goodbye once he looks back up.

It’s not until he’s taken a few steps the way he came does he realize he never even had a chance to ask about the coyote. _Distractions_.

He spins on his heel, arm out. “Wait a m-” He starts, words dying on his lips when Jesse is nowhere to be found. Hanzo blinks.

The sidewalk stretched out in front of him offers nowhere to turn for a while. There’s no way Jesse had gotten ahead of him, and he’s not across the street...Hanzo hadn’t even heard him leave. He frowns, walking over to where the man had stood, kicking at bits of ash on the concrete. Well. At least he hadn’t dreamed him up.

 

\--

 

The rest of the day follows a familiar pattern of non-answers, and by the end of it Hanzo is no further along than he had been when he set out, and all the more frustrated for it. He’s only gotten one good account from an older woman he came across at the flea market.

He had spotted her holding a small figurine, turning it this way and that, as if she was trying to decide if it was worth the price on the tag dangling from its foot.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” He keeps his voice low, but even then, the woman startles a little at the sudden noise.

“Oh, am I in your way?” She goes to move but stops when Hanzo shakes his head.

“No, actually, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?”

She seems confused at first, an expression that quickly turns to one of suspicion, before easing back into something more neutral. Hanzo had gotten that same response so often today, he was numb to it by now. “Go ahead,” She says eventually.

“How long have you lived here?” He pulls out his own tablet from his pack and starts his notes.

“Ever since I was a child. Three or four maybe. Our mother brought us here, me and my sisters. Many of them left when they were older, but I liked the pace of life. It was always quiet. Some of them live close by at least. I go to visit Sofia several times a year up in the city.”

“Santa Fe?”

The woman nods. “Yes. I like to visit my great nephews when I can.” She smiles, apparently more at ease. Hanzo takes a few more things down.

“Do you know about the local legend of a coyote spirit near the town?”

“Yes of course. Anyone here knows about him.” She laughs then, holding up the figurine. It was a coyote. “These were sold when I was maybe in my early twenties. A real tourist attraction this coyote was, for years! People loved to take home their own protective spirit, and these figures were very popular for a while. But the coyote ebbs and flows, and he wasn’t felt so much, anymore. People stopped coming as often. Our little town was booming for a good while. Even met my first husband when he came in from out of town. Convinced him to say for over a decade.” She gives Hanzo a wink and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“You mentioned this coyote is a spirit that offers protection?”

“Mhm, in a way. His own way. Coyotes are still wild, but this one was more gentle. He protected against suffering.” She looks sad for a moment before continuing. “My family had some cattle when I was younger. One of our cows had gotten real sick one year and none of her medicine would take. There wasn’t much to be done, but my parents didn’t want to kill her, so we kept on hoping she’d go in her sleep one day. Never did, that damn cow was more loyal than any dog I’d known, and she would stick around since she felt like she had to.”

The woman pauses. “I remember, one night I sat on the back porch and just wished real hard that Coyote would come along and take her, that somehow he’d feel her pain and end it for her.” She looks at Hanzo. “Next morning I went out to the barn, and she wasn’t there. Wasn’t nowhere, just gone.” She holds the figurine a little tighter. “The relief we all felt, the gratitude. I’ll never forget it. The pasture was so peaceful afterwards, for days.”

Hanzo finishes his notes, his heart thumping in his chest. “Thank you for your account, ma’am. You’ve been very helpful.” He says.

“Oh, was that all?”

“Yes, I believe I got what I needed.”

He had said his goodbyes and headed back out, aiming for the library as he got a call. “Yes, Genji.”

“Brother! Good news! Well, good news for our case, bad news for everyone involved. Meet me back at the motel, I’ve got some things to go over with you.”

Genji hangs up before Hanzo can even confirm anything else. Typical.

He turns around, debates the merits of stopping to grab something to drink at a nearby gas station, then heads towards the motel.

When he walks in with two sodas and some snacks, Genji is already there, notes spread out on the comforter of the bed around him. “Ah, good timing. That soda for me?” Hanzo tosses it over, Genji catching it easily and taking a drink. “Thanks! Okay so, I think I found a connection.”

“Go on,” Hanzo points his soda at Genji.

“I believe whatever is doing this is only targeting women. So far, all of the identifiable remains have been women from the town, with one exception. One of the women was a trucker passing through. There have been three victims who have either not yet been identified, or their identities are hidden. I haven’t been able to figure out which, yet. Though the three that haven’t been ID’d also happened over a decade ago, so these killings are nothing new. Here, look at this.”

Genji scoots over, pushing several papers up to the edge of the bed. Hanzo moves closer, bringing a chair to sit on.

“If you look at this loose timeline I made, it seems like there were three killings, all within weeks of each other. Then absolutely nothing for almost a year. After that, there’s been at least one killing a year since they first started.”

Hanzo scans the dates, noticing that the gap for new deaths has been slowly decreasing. The last victim, the site he visited earlier, happened a week before. “They are becoming more frequent.”

“Yes. That’s what my contact out here was telling me. Something is agitating this thing, whatever it is. It’s getting worse. But that’s not the whole story, either.”

“No?”

Genji looks too pleased with himself. “I also pulled missing persons files from the last decade. If you look here, all the recorded victims were also reported missing about a day before their remains were discovered. Except…”

Hanzo looks at a stack of about a dozen files pushed to the side. “Were these ones never found?”

“Exactly. No remains, no evidence, nothing. Some of the dates on these disappearances are recent, too. I have a theory about all this.”

Hanzo smiles, leaning back in his chair and downing more of his soda. “Let me hear it, I bet it’s good.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Genji huffs, his energy not waning in the least from Hanzo’s mood. A delicate balance they played.

“Anytime.”

“So, here’s what I’m thinking...up until a certain point about seven years ago, all missing persons coincided with the victim’s body turning up somewhere out in the surrounding area. All wounds consistent with previous attacks. Then some of the missing people start to not show up. Then the attacks get more frequent, and even then, more and more of the missing people are just that, missing, never to be found.”

“Huh,”

“Right! This isn’t a typical pattern that I’ve ever seen before. Usually these sorts of attacks are like clockwork, or they have a very clear purpose, or there’s something obviously setting them off. Something here doesn’t feel right.”

“I’ve noticed that, too. The energy here is...strange. The dragons,” Hanzo rubs at his arm, feeling tingles of electricity bubble up and down his skin. It surges within him, wanting out, wanting the thrill of the hunt, but he keeps it at bay. For now. “They have been restless since we arrived. Something evil is here, or something with evil intent.”

Genji briefly lifts his arm to touch his back, fingers tracing over his own tattoo. No doubt he’s felt it as well. “Normally spirits are not evil. They cannot be, only humans, or something that was once human, has the capacity for evil.”

“Perhaps then we are looking in the wrong place?” Hanzo suggests.

Genji frowns, starting to gather up his evidence as the enthusiasm slowly drains from him the moment he realizes his best idea has not brought them closer to their goal. “But as you said, the coyote is our best lead.”

“Maybe there’s some merit to that other creature the sheriff mentioned. This Butcher Beast…”

“I don’t know, even you seemed skeptical of it.” The frown on Genji’s face is out of place.

Hanzo shrugs, standing to throw away his empty soda and place the chair back at the desk. “That’s my job, Genji. To be the skeptical one.” He sighs, pushes his tablet from the edge of the desk with two fingers. “Though I did speak with some people today, about that coyote.”

“Yeah? Anything good?”

“A few people mentioned hearing stories, or their parents telling them as children that’s what happened to a beloved family pet when it went missing. One woman told me a story, and she seemed to believe in the power of this coyote so fiercely, she almost had me believing in it, too.”

“So, do you?”

Hanzo turns, watching Genji slide his laptop away. “What, believe in the coyote spirit? Maybe, but we’ve still no concrete evidence it even exists.”

“Do you think it killed all these people?”

Hanzo frowns. “I am not sure. How long do shifters live, typically?”

Genji hums and taps at his chin. “I think that depends on their origin. Why?”

“Could this coyote be a shifter instead of a spirit? It could explain the change in personality.”

Genji narrows his eyes. “Maybe, I haven’t found the first account of it yet, though the records I’ve been through have gone back at least a hundred years. I can look into that tomorrow for you.”

Hanzo nods, gathering his pajamas and heads to the bathroom. “Please do. If we’re working against a shifter here, we can get this finished and over with by tomorrow night. Otherwise, we keep digging.”


	4. Wild Eyes

The following afternoon finds Hanzo in the library with Genji. He had absolutely no desire to roam the streets accosting people like yesterday, and frankly, he was tired. Battling the constant humming in his arm kept him awake most of the night, and the howls that came from the desert at odd hours pulled him from his dreamless sleep on more than one occasion.

He’s on his third cup of coffee by now, forty pages into an account of the coyote on some archive on a computer more ancient than his truck.

With his mug right up at his mouth, a movement in the corner of the library catches his eye. _Of course._ He frowns, leaving his coffee where it’s at and looks at Genji as he stands.

Genji has a pen in his mouth, his tablet and laptop to one side, and a thick, dusty book on the other. He looks too engrossed to even notice what Hanzo is up to. Perfect.

The town library is relatively large in size for the small population, but most of the books are worn down classics, or specialized topics like farming, mechanic work, and school books for the children. There’s one section off in a corner that’s filled with myths and legends of old, and local history. It’s this aisle that Hanzo heads towards.

He slips down the row of books, stopping at the end and tracing the bindings of some fragile texts in front of him. Without looking, he says, “You’re not following me, are you?”

Hanzo can feel Jesse’s smile before he turns to look at the man, who has a small pile of books in a little basket by his feet, and one in his hands. “Would ya believe me if I said no?”

“I might. This is a small town, after all.”

Jesse’s grin widens. “Sure is, sweetheart. Though I gotta ask the same of you. You’re the one t’ come all the way over here to say hello, ain’t’cha?”

Hanzo finds himself at a loss for words, his hands flexing uselessly in front of himself. “Yes.” He says finally, looking down, embarrassed. Though he was here for a purpose, not idle small talk. “You ran off yesterday, I didn’t get to ask you some questions first…”

Jesse closes the book in his hand and leans down to place it carefully on top of his pile. When he comes back up, he takes the ever-present hat off his head and runs a hand through his hair, fixing it.

The hat doesn’t go back on right away, and now with nothing blocking his view, Hanzo finds no more words would come to him.

“Well?” Jesse asks, gesturing with his free hand, fingers almost grazing Hanzo’s shirt. “We’re both here. Don’t know ‘bout you, but I got all the time in the world.” He smiles gently. “These questions for yer little investigation, or they more personal?”

“I...no! No nothing like that,” Jesse laughs at the way Hanzo backtracks, but seems disappointed by his answer somehow. Or maybe it was just Hanzo projecting like usual... “No, it’s about the investigation. I wanted to know if you had any information, or a first-hand account, on the coyote spirit that is said to inhabit these parts.”

That has Jesse pausing, the easy smile slipping off his face some. “Why? You think that...the spirit had somethin’ to do with these deaths?”

Hanzo shrugs. “Honestly? I’ve no idea. Right now we’re trying to cover all our bases, and at the moment that’s our best lead. I know it sounds silly, thinking some local myth did all this, but-”

“Ain’t a myth.” He says quickly. “Seen it with my own eyes. Thing’s as real as you.”

“Wait, what? You’ve seen it?”.

Jesse stands up straighter, turning his head into the light coming from the window, giving him an ethereal look with his eyelashes catching the sun. Warm skin almost glowing. Maybe that’s what made him look the way he did at the diner...Hanzo couldn’t stop staring at him now, either.

“It can be real big, big as all the papers say, but it don’t have to be. Sometimes big is faster. Got a lot of ground to cover every night, to do its job.”

“And that is to look for things that are suffering, right?” Hanzo can’t keep the curiosity from his voice.

“Mmm. Pretty much. Follows the pain, finds it, stops it.” Jesse’s eyes move from looking at the row of books to Hanzo for only a split second, and that same feeling from before wells up in Hanzo’s gut. “That’s all it does. All it’s meant to do.”

“But couldn’t it kill if it wanted to?”

“No.” Jesse places his hat back on his head, and pulls the brim down low.

“So it’s never killed before all this started happening?”

“No, never.” Jesse dips down to grab his basket, his hat obscuring his face once again. “Ain’t never gonna kill. So look someplace else.” He nods his farewell at Hanzo faster than Hanzo can even recover from that look, and heads off to the front desk.

Hanzo stays where he’s at for a while longer than he should, taking time to settle down before he has to face his brother again. His arm wouldn’t quiet, and his brain felt a bit fuzzy, lost, like he’s missed something even if it was right within his grasp. It was a bad feeling, but he couldn’t dwell upon it. He’d need to find Jesse again, ask him just what the hell he meant by all that.

Genji is right where Hanzo left him, though there’s more things surrounding his station now, and Hanzo’s coffee had gone entirely cold. How long was he over there?

“Done talking with your boyfriend, Hanzo?”

“Huh?”

“The guy with the hat.” Genji mimes at his head, but doesn’t even grace Hanzo his full attention while he teases him. “Same one you were ogling the other day, isn’t he?”

“Jesse?”

“Oh!” Genji turns, one hand propping up his head. “So he has a name! Interesting. Tell me about him.”

“Genji, now is not the time.” Hanzo pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a seat, if only to get off his feet.

“You look like you need a break. Spill.”

“It’s not like that. I was asking about the coyote. He seemed...very upset that I’d even imply I thought the coyote killed those people. He said he’s seen the spirit in person, but he got mad at me before I could ask more questions.”

“Oh, Hanzo.” Genji’s eyes look sympathetic and Hanzo wants to leave.

“What?”

“One day I’m going to teach you how to speak to people.” He sighs dramatically, and sits back up in his chair, letting his hand fall. “Until then, if you see him again, apologize, and ask more questions. He’s sounds like he might be the best lead we’ve gotten so far for information about this spirit. Can’t let him walk away like that.”

Hanzo has no argument against that. Genji was right, again. Genji being constantly right was starting to wear his patience thin, but he had to admit, his brother had a point. “Fine.” He says, then points at the mess Genji’s made of the desk. “You find anything else?”

“Well, I think we can rule out the coyote being a shifter.”

Hanzo deflates. Of course that would be the case. “Why?”

“I found a translated account by settlers of this area. One of them had written a very short letter to a relative, and in it they mentioned seeing a very large canine roaming the desert. According to the book I’m reading now, this isn’t even the oldest sighting of this thing. It goes back centuries, perhaps even further. It’s ancient.” He smiles.

“In this other book, here,” He says, pulling one closer. “It says the native peoples had a story of a coyote who would ease the passing of the sick. Sound familiar?”

Hanzo leans back in his chair, letting out a slow breath. “So, this is definitely a spirit.”

“Yes, it’s very unlikely for a shifter to live this long, by accident or even by choice.” Genji closes the books around him with a sense of finality. They lost a lead, but they knew more about what they were working with, at least. It was better than going in blind.

“Good to know, but now we’re back at square one.”

Genji shakes his head. “Not exactly. While you were chatting up your boyfriend, I got a message from the sheriff. She says there’s been another possible killing last night, so she’s got her men out there right now. Once the site’s cleared and ready, she’ll call one of us to let us know.”

“Ah, that’s…”

“Yeah. It’s not good but…”

“Best we’ve got to work with. A fresh scene can help narrow down suspects. Are we looking for something else, now?”

“I’m still looking into the idea of a shifter, though I think we can rule the coyote out. But the wounds I’ve seen in the photographs look consistent with a canine, and I agree with the sheriff that they were not bites of a creature that was hungry. So it’s worth it for now.”

“Do we still need to research the coyote then?”

"Mhm, I think it might have something to do with the disappearances, instead of the deaths. I’ve found several accounts of sick livestock missing over the last few decades. And with the story you heard yesterday, it’s likely that-”

“The coyote took them.”

“Yeah, that’s what these reports all say. In every case there was no motive or evidence for theft or animals escaping.”

“So...you’re thinking the coyote found some of the victims before the police did?”

“Yep! Which means, the coyote is technically working against something else.” Genji leans back in his chair, shuffling a few things around, but looking pleased with himself.

“That would explain the increase in attacks and disappearances.”

Genji smiles. “Absolutely.”

Hanzo closes out of his research, grabbing his cold coffee and downing it without thinking, eyes already on the door of the library. “I need to find Jesse.”

Genji goes back to his work, copying down some of the information he’d found. “You do that, brother.” He says, and even though Hanzo knows he meant it in a teasing way, the encouragement from Genji bolsters his resolve.

Hanzo’s pushing through the doors and out into the street with something akin to desperation. Jesse really was his best lead on the spirit, and if what Genji was saying was right, something in Hanzo tells him Jesse would be able to confirm it.

His dragons pull him off in one direction, the feeling in his arm growing stronger the closer he gets to where the man must be. It’s strange, Hanzo thinks, that his own spirits react in such a way, but if this man knows what he does, then it makes sense. People connected with the supernatural also give off this sort of feeling…

It’s likely what’s been putting Hanzo on edge around the man, too. Hopefully.

The cigar smoke hits him first: thick, slightly sweet, with an undertone of spice he cannot identify. It’s instantly familiar, and something inside of him calms.

“Jesse?” He calls, turning in place and looking down the sidewalk, eyes partially squinted in the sun. A plume of smoke drifts from the side of a building that Hanzo follows.

There the other man stands, fingers pulling the cigar from between his lips. Hanzo gets the distinct feeling he’s being scrutinized when those honey brown eyes sweep over him.

“I’m beginning to get an inkling you’re the one followin’ me, darlin’.” Jesse says, sounding somewhat distant. He flicks the ash off the cigar. “You’re persistent, I’ll give ya that.”

Hanzo does his best to stand to his full height and swallows down any uncertainty welling up in his stomach. “I came to apologize, for what I said earlier. I realize the coyote is important to the people here, and I should not have implied what I did.”

Jesse hums, nodding slowly. “Alright.” He says, taking another puff off the cigar. He lets the smoke roll over his tongue slowly as he speaks. “I reckon I can accept it, but first I gotta ask ya somethin’.”

Hanzo waits.

“How’d ya know where to look for me?” Jesse’s eyes flick over to Hanzo again, watching him curiously. A smirk on his lips makes Hanzo feel like Jesse already knew the answer to his question, but that was impossible. Not even all the members of the Shimada family knew about the dragons.

“You were not very far. Plus I recognized the scent of your cigar.”

“Hmm. Guess that’s fair.” He agrees, though he still looks far too knowing for Hanzo’s tastes. But that’s why he followed him out here, wasn’t it? Because he _knew_ something about this case Hanzo wasn’t privy to yet. Something that eluded both him and Genji.

A car drives past them, kicking dust up into the air and Hanzo steps in closer, away from the road. “Jesse…” He starts, looking up at the man with intent. “How do you know so much about the coyote?”

Jesse flicks ash off his cigar again, turning his head away to blow out the smoke. He looks down the sidewalk as if in thought. “Well, when you’ve lived here long ‘nuff, you just learn these things is all.”

“And how long have you lived here?” Hanzo asks, taking another step in. He felt close to an answer. A _real_ answer. But he didn’t know the right questions to ask.

Jesse turns to him, eyes molten under the sunlight. “My whole life.”

Hanzo opens his mouth and then thinks better of it. His arm itches under his skin.

“I...see.” He says after too long a pause, though Jesse says nothing of the way Hanzo just stood there, staring. “I should go, there’s still quite a bit of work do be done.”

Jesse nods. “Take care, Hanzo.” He turns and starts off down the sidewalk, and unlike last time, Hanzo keeps his eyes on him as he leaves. When he’s far enough in the distance, that shimmery look comes over him again, as if Jesse is a mirage.

Hanzo chalks it up as nothing more than the heat coming off the ground.

 

\--

 

When his phone rings, Hanzo nearly jumps out of his skin. The only person who normally calls is in the motel with him. When he answers, a voice he doesn’t recognize at first filters through the line.

“Hanzo, was it?”

“Yes?”

He hears an annoyed sigh, clipped and cut off as if it was caught too late. “Yes, hello. Your brother is not answering the number he gave me. This is the sheriff.”

“I figured as much. Is there something you need?” Hanzo closes the door to the bathroom, cradling the phone on his shoulder and resumes trimming his goatee.

“I assume your brother told you about the recent attack. The site’s been cleared; it’s ready whenever you are.”

Hanzo places the scissors on the side of the sink next to his clippers, turning his face to the side and back before he’s satisfied with his work. “I see. Where is it?”

“Ah, well, I wouldn't suggest you go look at it now, it’s nearly nightfall. Still, if you stop by my office I can give you the coordinates and some supplies so you can look at first light, if that suits you?”

Hanzo frowns. A fresh scene would be best. Who knows what sort of animals will wander past now that there’s no police in the area? “I can come. How late will you be in the office? I will head out now.”

“I’ll be around for another few hours. Paperwork. You know how it is. I’ll see you when you get here.” She hangs up before Hanzo can say anything more, but that doesn’t worry him any.

He steps out of the bathroom and collects his jacket, shrugging it on while he looks for his pack.

Genji turns in his seat, an array of books spread out in front of him, with just as many windows open on his laptop. “Where are _you_ going?”

Hanzo immediately bristles like he’s been caught doing something he’s not supposed to. Which happens to be the case, this time. “Sheriff called, said the scene’s ready. I wanted to go out and take a look while it was still fresh.” He adjusts the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

His brother seems unimpressed, eyes switching from Hanzo, to his research, and back. “It’s late, and we’re still not entirely sure what we’re working with here. Can’t you look in the morning?”

He _could_ look in the morning, with a clear mind and the sun helping to light up the scene. But there’s no way Hanzo was going to chance it. Not now. They needed to stop this creature as soon as possible with lives on the line.

Hanzo squares his shoulders. “I’m going with the Sheriff. She wants me to come over to grab additional supplies.” He eyes Genji for a moment, watching him to see if his lie sticks. “You could come, too.”

Genji is quick to shake his head. “No, no. I’ve got enough on my plate right now. You’ve got backup at least. Though if you need me-”

“I will call.”

Genji grins, giving Hanzo a quick thumbs up before he turns back to his screen. “Awesome. Text me anything interesting.”

“Of course. I should be back in a few hours. Don’t wait up.” Hanzo adjusts his bag again and heads to the door.

“Never do,” Genji quips, and Hanzo has to stop himself from smiling as he heads to his truck.


	5. Plateau of Smoke

The lights at the Sheriff’s office are on as promised, despite the rest of the buildings on the street darkened for the night. He makes his way up the steps slowly, a bit unsure of himself, even if he was summoned here.

The last time he’d been with Madison alone, she hadn’t made him feel very welcome. His brother was an excellent buffer for these sorts of things. 

The front desk is empty when he walks in, though there’s a light on in an office to the side, which he approaches cautiously.

“Hello?” 

He hears a thump and rustling, then the door swings open. The sheriff’s face comes into view, her expression carefully blank before morphing into a small smile.

“Hanzo, perfect timing. I went ahead and made you a supply kit in case you decide to head out at daybreak.” She reaches down and plops a small box on the desk. “It’s not much, mostly stuff we had around the office. Road flares, gauze, band-aids, paper towels.” Madison lifts each item out as if counting them to herself. 

Hanzo looks at the pile on the desk, and thinks back to his own pack, full of supplies, but smiles at her anyway. “Thank you.” He says, trying his best to sound grateful. 

“I’ll be honest, I’m mostly trying to get rid of this stuff. It’s all been sitting in the back room for ages and taking up the room for my trophies.” She waves a flare at him before she scoots the box forward. 

Hanzo pauses. “Trophies?” 

Madison gives a small laugh. “Oh, yeah, from my cases. I like to keep a reminder of a job well done.” She leans over a pile of books on her desk and hands Hanzo a print out of the area. “Anyway, here are the coordinates to the site; it’s a bit of a drive out, so make sure you’re following the map here exactly.” She points to a spot she had circled in a thick marker.

Hanzo picks up her little care package and a handful of flags to place near anything he finds of interest. 

“Alright, let me know if you need anything else, you have my number.” She stands there with her hands on her hips, looking at the box critically. Apparently satisfied, she sits back in her chair and pulls up to her desk, leaning against it with her chin propped against her fist. “But you should be good to go.”

Hanzo nods. “Of course, thank you.”

“So, when do you think you’ll leave out? I wouldn't mind joining you two out there. I’d love to see how you and your brother work. He doesn’t put too much of the process up on his website.”

Hanzo laughs awkwardly, shakes his head. “It’s a lot of sticking our noses into books, or other places we shouldn’t be, and getting lucky. Not so glamorous as you might think.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Her grin is still firmly in place when she turns to her desk, getting some of the many papers there in order. “By the way,” She says, not even glancing up at him . “Don’t go out tonight. I see that look in your eye and I’m telling you now, it’s too cold and it’s too dangerous when it’s this dark. It’ll all be there in the morning.” 

Hanzo laughs again, though it was more nervous this time. This woman saw right through him. Though, he supposes, it really was her job to sniff out a lie. “Wouldn’t think of it. I’ll see you in the morning, Sheriff.”

She cocks a brow and him and hums, a slow smirk forming on her face. “I’ll be looking forward to it.” She gestures back to the pile of work before her. “I’ll be here a while longer, I hope you don't mind seeing yourself out?” It’s a blatant dismissal, but Hanzo is eager to leave anyway.

The walk to his truck leaves him conflicted. On one hand, he should mind her advice, on the other, that nagging feeling in the back of his mind, the one that promises a solution, stands out. He can’t leave it alone. It has to be now. 

He pulls out the map given to him, scanning it over and noting there were a few older sites circled and crossed out here and there. They seemed entirely random at best, no clear pattern at all that he could see. He suddenly wishes for Genji to be there with him. He was better at this sort of thing…

He could call. See if there  _ was _ a pattern somewhere for Genji to find. Maybe it could help?

No.

_ No. _

He’s been off his game since he landed in this damned desert. There’s no excuse for his performance, or lack thereof. He was going to find something tonight. He had to.

He reaches over to the passenger seat and pulls his gun from the glovebox, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready. Never hurt to be prepared, especially not at a time like this. He pulls his holster out from his bag, leaning forward in the seat to sling it over his shoulders, his gun sliding into place against his side securely.

His flashlight goes into his pocket next, the flair the sheriff had given him, along with a few of the bandages after a brief moment of thought. He vividly remembers Genji limping into their room after a snack run one night, foot pierced by some short and unassuming plant just outside their door.

The map itself is easy to follow, only a few roads lead out from the town, even fewer that were paved properly for the trucks. 

Hanzo follows the road down for nearly an hour, the land around him unchanging, save for a few wayward trucks in the wee hours of the night. Scrub brush dominated the land here, intermixed with short cactus and small rocks, a few dry grasses. He checks his phone to make sure of his location before he veers off the road and down a small stretch of path made earlier by police vehicles. 

Yellow flags in the ground assure him he’s in the right spot. His headlights show the dulled remains of viscera before him as he pulls his truck up to the scene. There’s evidence of what was surely a gruesome image strewn across the ground, and Hanzo has to cover his face with a handkerchief once he gets closer. 

His lights go off automatically, and he’s momentarily blinded by the darkness. The night is chilled, and the moon mostly hidden in shadow. A sickness sweeps through the air, sweet and thick, clinging to the grass and the dirt, interwoven in the melody of the wind that brushes pass his cheek like a spurned lover’s kiss.

It’s not the first time he’s felt like this on a hunt, and it likely won’t be the last. Even someone with a tenuous connection to the supernatural would know something was off about this place, about the scene before him. 

He pulls his flashlight from his jacket pocket and has to smack it a few times to get it to cooperate with him. Stupid thing never did want to act right, though Hanzo was certain he’d changed the batteries before he left. Maybe this area was charged with bad energy...

The flashlight flickers several times as he gets closer, though it stays on despite its weak protests. The first thing Hanzo notices, as his light sweeps out across the ground, are the marks.

Drag marks, of both human hand and animal claws, surround the dirt in evidence of a struggle. Large swaths of blood had been spilt, leaving behind a grisly canvas. The police had cleaned up the gore, but the marks it left in the soil were unmistakable. Hanzo walks along some of the blood trails, noting that while the marks suggest the victim had tried to drag themselves away, their attacker had followed. The paw prints left in the dirt are smooth and near perfect, not the sign of something in a hurry to feed. Almost like it had wanted to draw the death out. 

Hanzo grimaces. No matter how many deaths he’s seen, each one feels just as bad as the first. Just as real, just as upsetting. A morbid reminder that everyone on this earth had an end, and that each must one day face it. 

Loose gravel crunches loudly under his boot and he startles, nearly jumping out of his skin. “Dammit,” He curses, getting a tighter grip on the flashlight and holding it up higher to cast a wider circle of light. Everything about this case felt wrong. It wasn’t like him to be so jumpy and on edge. He can feel his fingers twitch around the cold metal, his empty hand at his side tugging on the extra fabric of his jacket sleeve. He brings his hand up, feeling more stable once his fingers graze the grip of his gun. 

He shouldn’t have come out here at night. He should go. He got what he needed...there was enough evidence here to prove that whatever creature committed this crime, it certainly wasn’t a mere animal. This was torture, plain and simple, and Hanzo wanted no more part of it.

The rest could wait until morning.

As he turns, the flashlight sputters once, blinking a few times when he bangs the side in his fist, then goes dark. He curses again, angrily shoving it in his pocket and debating on standing around in the dark until his eyes adjust enough to feel his way back to his truck. 

But...that wouldn’t be a good idea. He was in the middle of the scene now, and liable to step on something and containmate the evidence.

He sighs and pulls out the flare, twisting the cap off and striking it away from his face. He holds it down and turns to orient himself. The red light casts an eerie glow around him, lighting up even things his flashlight’s beam couldn’t. 

He lifts the flare slightly, bits of it spitting off to the ground. His truck sits in the distance, the headlights reflecting the flare.

Something else gleams in the darkness, too.

Hanzo stills. 

He knows better than to call after whatever manner of creature waits in the darkness.

A growl very much unlike anything he’s ever heard rumbles out of the silence of the night. Starting low, then gaining in volume until it ends in a crude mockery of laughter. 

A dark shape creeps forward, gravel and sand shifting under the clawed tips of its paws. It’s larger than anything Hanzo has seen before, green eyes trained on him with a sort of malice that could only be born from intelligence. 

“Stay back, beast!” Hanzo warns, slipping his gun from his side and aiming it at the  _ thing _ as it approaches. It does not slow its advance, though it does curve to the side, bypassing the old blood on the ground as if it knew exactly where everything lie. 

And, considering it was likely the one to cause this mess, it probably did.

Hanzo grits his teeth, he was shaking too badly to aim properly at this thing with only one hand. He has to drop the flare. 

He tosses it in an arc towards the creature, lighting up the space around it but not its black fur, as if no light could escape. It helps him get a better look at least, sizing the thing up and realizing with a start his gun offered little in the way of defense. 

Now with both hands gripped tightly around his gun, he’s able to track the progress of the beast across the ground. It was something wolf-shaped, that much Hanzo was certain. The rest of it...well. It was just a little too... _ human _ , too  _ familiar _ . It made Hanzo’s skin crawl.

His eyes flick to his truck, his path to it now blocked by the wolf. He was being trapped, and he hadn’t even realized. 

The wolf crouches low, belly scraping against the ground as it watches him. He cannot take his eyes off it, knows that without a doubt, doing so spells death. A similar end to the poor victim caught in the same spot not a day before. 

He swallows thickly, his heart trapped in his throat, beating so fiercely, so wildly, that it had begun to choke the breath from him.

A small prickly bush nearly trips him as he backs up, and the wolf is on the move again the moment he looks at the ground to glare at it. It circles around him near silently, paws soft and quiet on the ground, a seasoned killer. Hanzo brings his gun level to the wolf’s head, finger twitching over the trigger. 

“I will shoot,” Hanzo says, voice carrying none of the conviction he was trying to muster up. This was not the first time he had to kill something come to attack him, and it will not be the last. The wolf moves even closer.

Hanzo fires off two rounds, the echo traveling far into the desert, the noise of the gun ringing in his ears for a split second too long.

A growl, a low, guttural sound has Hanzo’s insides twisting, and the next thing he knows, he’s falling.

The back of his head hits the hard ground after his shoulders break his fall, bouncing his body in the air a few inches. He groans, turning for his gun that was knocked from his fingers. The dark metal glints off the red light of the flare, just a few feet from him.

He manages to get up on his forearms before he’s knocked back again with two huge, black paws driving straight into his chest. He cannot breathe, his eyes fly wide open and body trying in vain to curl inwards to minimize damage. He reaches up, one arm out to protect his face, but the wolf is off him already, circling.

Its mouth is open wide in a threatening display of teeth, spittle drooling from off the tongue and landing near Hanzo’s side. Hanzo has no idea if he managed to shoot the damn thing. He hadn’t heard any pained cries, nor was the wolf showing any signs of distress. 

_ Damn it all! _

He rolls onto his side, reaching once more for his gun, but he’s stopped by a dark paw over his arm, the claws digging into his flesh enough to make him hiss in pain.

The wolf leans into his space, muzzle pulling open further with a slick sound, more drool falling down. Those eyes watch him try and push himself backwards, then the wolf lunges.

Hanzo can feel the paws on his shoulder, aiming for his face before he really even knows what’s happening. His arms fly up on instinct, his head turning to get out of the way of the snapping jaws. The wolf is growling, and under all the horrible sounding coming from its mouth, he can almost swear he hears words. 

It shoves its muzzle in the space between his forearms, not quite reaching where it wants to attack and getting frustrated for it. Snapping teeth graze at his arms, slicing some gauges into his skin, but Hanzo figures it’s a small price to pay to keep himself alive.

Hanzo lifts one leg and kicks out with his boot at the wolf’s soft underbelly, making it snarl and whip around long enough for him to scramble away. 

He doesn’t get more than a few meters before he’s being drug back to the ground, the wolf using its full force to jump and grab the back of Hanzo’s shirt and tug him down, face-first into the brush underfoot. 

Another growl, this one more like the laughter from earlier, and then all Hanzo knows is sudden, white-hot pain, radiating out of his leg. 

Something snaps and crunches, and he realizes with a hint of delium that’s the flesh of his leg being ripped and torn from his body. The smell of blood redoubles in the area, thick and metallic, and Hanzo’s stomach churns. 

He has no idea why, but he starts to crawl forward, towards his truck. His gun was forgotten for the moment, having had little effect on the wolf, if he even managed to hit it in the first place. He just needed to get home. He needed to leave.  _ He shouldn’t be out here. _

He’s tugged back by his leg again and the wolf snarls and twists its entire form from the effort. Hanzo moves to kick back at the creature once more, maybe now it would be distracted with the blood on its muzzle, but he finds that he cannot. There’s something wrong with his leg. It felt both heavy and so much lighter at once. 

Unfortunately, the wolf gave him little time to dwell on it. 

It’s near him again, following him slowly as he continues to crawl, as if it was getting enjoyment out of watching his struggle. Hanzo bites down on his lip, dragging his body across the rough dirt. 

The wolf, maw dripping more than just spittle now, hops out in front of him, mouth opening wide.

Hanzo gets the distinct impression he’s about to die.

But something’s wrong, and the wolf closes its mouth with an audible snap. Its eyes leave Hanzo for the first time since their encounter began, chin lifted over the back of Hanzo’s form. Every muscle in the creature’s body goes stiff as Hanzo turns his head in that direction.

At first, the sweat in his eyes, and the pained haze over his vision has him blinded and burry in the dim light. He can hear the flare from somewhere off to his side sputter before it goes entirely dark, and then.

Then Hanzo sees it.

Up on top of a plateau overlooking the plains below, a hulking figure stands. A dark silhouette against the purples and blues of the night. The wolf’s growls deepen, but they are no longer directed at him.

Hanzo blinks a few times, trying to turn himself to face the shape, mind carefully blank. If this creature attacking him gave pause to... _ whatever this was _ , Hanzo knew he had little chance to escape. 

He manages to get one arm under himself, facing away now from his truck, and into the expanse of the night. The thing on the plateau was no longer there. A trick of the mind, perhaps? Wishful thinking for someone with so little to hope for…

A shimmer in the distance, and his eyes refocus. Whatever had been on the plateau was now on the ground, an impossible feat in the few seconds he took his eyes off it. The wolf behind him growls again, taking one step back from Hanzo’s body. 

Another blink, and the shape draws nearer, never actually walking, just... _ appearing _ in the new location. Hanzo feels cold, even as tacky, hot blood runs from the wounds on his leg, collecting in yet another pool on the dirt.

He takes in a shaky breath, the first one in what seems like hours, and immediately regrets it. 

His whole body feels sharp with pain, shooting up from his core down his limbs. He falls back onto his stomach, arms pillowed under his head to prevent more damage. 

One of Hanzo’s eyes open, his field of vision skewed by his hair fallen loose in his face.

While the wolf had been quiet, it still made noise as it moved, but this thing, as it approaches in jumps, the way a faulty tape might, makes absolutely no sound.

Everything is still. The wind doesn’t even grace Hanzo with its caress. 

After another hard blink, to get his head right, the dark shape stands just beside him, absolutely dwarfing that of the wolf, who has since turned tail and started running in the opposite direction. As it runs, its forelimbs pull from the earth, and it scatters into the sky in an explosion of feathers, long black wings arcing through the night and disappearing a moment later. 

Hanzo coughs and turns his his head, his gaze matched by that of a coyote.  _ So, the stories were true, then _ . 

“You’re real,” Hanzo breathes out, voice hoarse and followed by more coughing that brings up a foul taste in his mouth. He does his best to lean forward, spitting blood on the ground. 

The coyote leans down, nose twitching, golden eyes looking upon him almost sadly. 

The last thing Hanzo registers before passing out, is a soft blue glow and the smell of a storm. 

And finally,

_ Blackness. _


	6. Shattered

A shrill piercing noise drags Genji from the world of dreams, where he was flying and fighting some monstrous creature he’d never seen before. 

It takes him a few seconds to connect the sound isn’t part of his fading dream, but rather his phone’s default ring. He hadn’t heard it in ages. He’d have to fix that later. But not right now, since right now he was sleeping…

Wait.

His phone’s ringing.

“Shit,” Genji curses, rolling over and slapping wildly at the side table between the beds. Hanzo was going to kill him for this later.

“Hello?” The number on the screen that nearly blinds him when he grabs his phone is not one he recognizes. He squeezes his eyes shut harshly, pinching the bridge of his nose to wake up a little, trying to get his voice to sound like he hadn’t just guzzled a rock or two.

“Mr. Shimada? Genji?” The voice asks, and Genji has no idea who could be calling him at this time of night. In his mind he’s still fighting some monster…

“Yeah? Speaking, sorry. Who’s this?” He tries to sit up, keeping his voice low enough not to rouse his brother, but unable to keep the irritation out of his tone.

There’s a sigh through the line, then. “This is the sheriff. I’m giving you and your brother a wake up call. It will be morning soon, and the site is a ways out, so if you two would like to get ready we can get there by daybreak.”

Genji opens his eyes to the room properly for the first time since waking, blinking heavily, eyebrows pushed together. “Huh? Hanzo said he was going to look at that last night.”

“He came to my office and got some supplies, but I made it clear it was not safe for anyone to go at night. Did he not return?”

Genji drops his phone on the sheets and turns towards a very empty bed across the room. “ _ Shit _ ,” Genji curses again, slipping his feet on the carpet and walking over to the bathroom. The light wasn’t on, but sometimes his brother sat in the dark alone on hunts like this. Claims it helps him think. Genji knows better.

He turns his hand over, rapping on the door lightly with his knuckles, leaning in. No sounds from inside. “Anija? You in there?”

Nothing still. 

The knob on the bathroom door is as cold and unforgiving as the empty room itself. “Hanzo...what the fuck.”

Genji scoops up his phone from the bed and starts to pace around, free hand scrubbing down his face. He’d need a shave soon. “Yeah, no. He’s not in the room, just checked.”

There’s a harsh whisper on the other line, like the sheriff’s held the phone away from her face. “Alright. Change of plans. Get dressed. I already have my team here now, we will come and pick you up. The motel’s on the way. Be ready in ten.”

She hangs up before Genji can ask anything further, and he’s left with a sudden, growing sense of absolute dread. 

They had never been separated like this on any of their hunts.

_ Why did I let Hanzo leave on his own last night? Stupid stupid! _

Genji stands in the center of the room for a minute, eyes closed, white knuckling his phone like a lifeline as he tries to regulate his breathing. He could do this. Hanzo was probably just lost in the desert, or he found something interesting and decided to sleep in the truck so he could look at it better in the morning. 

Wouldn’t be the first time Genji’s caught him holed up somewhere weird, trying to catch evidence. And, Genji tells himself, it most definitely won’t be the last. 

He dresses quickly, only bringing along his bag. A couple minutes later, he’s standing outside the motel, a cheap, crinkled water bottle in one hand and a partially eaten granola bar in the other. When he sees two police cars drive up, he gives the sheriff a two fingered wave, holding the granola up like a little beacon as the first car comes to a stop nearby. 

The window rolls down, and an unfamiliar man, maybe just a few years older than him, leans out. “Get in back,” He says, voice far too deep to match his face. Genji clears his throat and gently curls the wrapper of his bar over before shoving it in his pocket. Would be rude to eat that mess in someone’s car. 

The sheriff looks at him through her rear-view mirror as she pulls back out onto the main road, eyes flashing in the low light. “Glad to see you’re on time. Feel free to nap on the way, even at the speeds I’ll be driving, it’s nearly an hour out.”

“Ah, thank you. But I should be alright.”

He can see the sheriff shrugging at her partner. “Suit yourself.” She says, looking at him in the mirror again. “I’ll let you know when we’re close.”

\--

On the drive up, Genji does drift in and out of consciousness a few times, getting a striking sense of deja vu from the whole thing. 

He tries to call Hanzo’s cell three times, and each time Genji cuts the automated message short with a frown.

“Likely doesn’t have service up here.” Madison says, not taking her eye off the road. “It’s a bit of a dead zone this way.”

The cars pull up to an area marked all over in short flags, still in the windless morning and hanging loosely on their thin metal poles. “Oh!” Genji sits up in his seat, jabbing a finger towards the front. The man in the passenger seat seems annoyed by the sudden intrusion, but the sheriff looks up, following Genji’s hand. 

There, surrounded by dried out bushes and dirt, stands Hanzo’s truck. That was good, right? Hanzo had to be close.

The other team of police have already started to approach the truck by the time Genji exits the car. Everyone’s fanned out, so Genji walks up a stout woman with half her body in Hanzo’s front seat, digging around in a pack similar to his own. 

“Find anything?” He asks, peering into the back and seeing nothing but an empty bench, save for a thin blanket sliding to the floor. 

“Looks like some general supplies, an’ some ammunition for a handgun, but not much else.” The woman eases out of the truck and looks up at Genji carefully, some age clear on her face, but not hardening her stare at all. “Your brother normally carry around a firearm?”

Genji shrugs. “When there’s danger, he will. Given our line of work-”

“Alright. Hey Luis!” She shouts, and a man pops his head up across the field.

“Yup?”

“Check to see if there’s any casings ‘round here. Missing guy had a gun. Wanna see if he shot it at anythin’.”

“Yup!”

She turns back to Genji with a grin. “Might wanna hang tight out here, so ya don’t contaminate nothing at the scene.”

Genji frowns, crossing his arms and shifting off to the side. “I’ve been to plenty of crime scenes. I know what I’m doing.”

The cop raises a brow. “You some kinda freak then?” She laughs and shakes her head, turning away from Genji’s failed display. “Don’t matter, kid. Stay back till we call the all clear.”

Something in Genji almost snaps - years of training and discipline and experience just to have it all tossed back in his face. He’s been on edge since he woke up, and his fingers curl into his palms. But, he’s not on his home turf anymore. These people don’t know him, don’t know all the work he and Hanzo have done already. 

Genji resigns himself to staying around the truck, even if he doesn’t like it. 

He’s halfway to bringing his granola bar back to his mouth when a shout rings out some yards away. He pushes off Hanzo’s truck, trying to see where it came from. 

“Sheriff!” Someone yells, a hint of panic in their voice. “Found something!”

Genji spots Madison do a little half jog across the dirt, side-stepping a low cactus plant and going out of his field of view. He couldn’t  _ stand here _ like this. Not if something is happening.

He walks around the side of the truck, first seeing two cops bending over something, one of them lifting a brass casing with their pen. So. Hanzo did shoot at something. 

He begins to feel sick the closer he gets to where the sheriff stands, shaking her head while the man from the car dry heaves a few feet out. 

Genji swallows thickly. 

“What is it?” He asks, voice sounding small, even to his own ears. The sheriff turns, her face not ashen or sympathetic like he expected, instead she looks livid, only giving Genji a passing glance as she turns back to another member of her team. 

“But where’s the  _ rest _ of him?” She snarls, gesturing with her whole arm, and Genji tunes her out the moment his eyes fall on it.

Up ahead, in a smear of tacky blood, lies what looks to be the remainder of Hanzo’s...leg. If the shoe attached to the limb is any indication, that is.

Genji doesn’t want to get closer, but he knows he must. He goes cold, his core seizing up as he tries his best to get a clinical eye on everything. Hard to do this, however, when he can recognize Hanzo’s boot so easily. This was one of his favorite pair. 

_ Gods, this is really happening isn’t it? _

He steps forward, flinching back at the sight of snapped bone and torn flesh, bits of fabric strewn all around the area. There’s a line, dragging up from the rest that Genji quickly follows, eager to be away from what he’s seen. He couldn’t look at this anymore.

_ Where did my brother go? _

Behind him, the sheriff calls out, trying to get him to wait, he thinks, but like hell he’s listening to her right now. He has to  _ know. _ He has to figure out what happened to his brother. Hanzo would kick his ass if he left it to the cops.

Hanzo had better be  _ alive  _ to kick his ass, or Genji was going to kill him himself, for scaring him and running off being reckless.

What was wrong with Hanzo lately? He’d been so off his game, so out of it since they touched down in the states and met up with their contacts in California… Genji didn’t have time to really ask him. Didn’t make time, and he cannot spare a thought of regret now, despite the rising evidence before him. He follows the line of blood to a spot where it had pooled again, some meters out from what he guesses is the initial site of the attack.

From the marks in the dirt, it’s clear Hanzo dragged himself this way, instead of being pulled, so that’s something at least. He still had some strength about him in one way or another.

Genji fumbles for his phone, bringing it out and turning on the light so he can shine it down on the ground where Hanzo ended up.

Around the area is a strange pattern, all the short grasses splayed out as if flattened by a strong wind, little divots in the dirt twist like rivers away from the spot. None of this could have happened by natural means. 

Genji looks up as the sheriff draws near, her face drawn tight in irritation. He couldn’t even be bothered to spare her one of his signature smiles. 

“Didn’t you hear me? I said stay away, and yet here you are.” 

Genji’s lip curls. He shuts off his phone light. “Excuse me, sheriff, but this is my  _ brother _ . I’ll do whatever I damn well please to find him, thank you.”

Madison’s eyes narrow, green turning to slits. “ _ What? _ ”

Genji gestures at the scene to his side. “I’ve been doing this for years. This is my  _ job _ .”

“Actually,” She says, her tone is quiet and edged with something more than irritation. She squares her shoulders and takes a sharp step towards him. “It's  _ my _ job, Shimada. It’s  _ my _ work and  _ my _ scene, dont forget that.”  

Genji shakes his head, tired of the posturing. “Not like this. This isn’t natural, you agreed with us on that.” He looks at the sheriff in a way that he hopes conveys what he’s too tired to figure out how to ask. “Please, let me think.” he pleads.

Something in her demeanor shifts, though Genji can’t tell what it is. She gives him a long look before she clicks her tongue and stomps off, barking an order at her men to collect any evidence they find. The two already putting the bullet casings away eye her warily. 

Once he’s alone, Genji crouches down next to the area where Hanzo was and reaches out, hand hovering over the ground. His dragon stirs, an itch crawling up his back and onto his neck. He bunches his shoulders, head tilted to the side to wave off the discomfort, but his dragon is persistent.

He briefly touches the ground, fingertips only grazing the dirt, and is almost blown back by the force that runs up his arm and settles warmly over his spine. 

_ What was that?  _ He wonders, reaching up and touching his shoulder in awe. He glances around, trying to find evidence of Hanzo sending off his dragons, but nothing indicates they left from this spot.

Why were they out? What did Hanzo hope to accomplish?

He stands and steps away from the immediate area, no clues forthcoming. And yet, something still scratches at the back of his mind. Something he’s missing.

He follows the direction Hanzo had been crawling a few more feet out. Maybe he was trying to go somewhere, or to someone…

_ There. _

In the dirt there’s a few thick drops of blood. Not unusual for the scene, of course, but from the way they look, the blood fell from a considerable distance up. 

Hanzo had been carried away. 

Only, there’s no tracks in the dirt, shoe print or otherwise, to tell him  _ where. _

\--

The police finish collecting more evidence over the next half hour, including Hanzo’s... _ shoe _ …and the man with the deep voice from earlier ushers Genji into the same car when they are ready to leave out.

The ride back into town is done in absolute silence. 

Tension flows off the sheriff in waves, and the man riding shotgun either pretends not to notice it, or he is so used to this sort of mood it doesn’t faze him anymore. Genji tries to find it within himself to feel sorry for him, but his mind is occupied. 

The team found out only a few things: Hanzo had been attacked by an animal, with his leg torn from his body, he had shot several rounds, likely at his attacker, and after the initial attack he moved himself several yards forward from the scene, only for all evidence to stop there.

Genji keeps his own private revelations to himself. 

Hanzo is alive. The warmth in his back tells him so. But he has no way of communicating this to the sheriff. He is alive, but wounded, recovering, hopefully. Genji can only hope, but he feels like he has to brace for the worst, should the heat dissipate. He clings to the feeling tightly as he stares blankly out into the desert surrounding the road. 

\--

Genji pulls his bag out of the seat and has only a second to shut the door before the sheriff is taking off. He’s told to stay put, that he will be contacted the moment anyone knows of Hanzo’s whereabouts. He nods absently, fully intending to ignore the thinly veiled warning. 

The motel is barely stirring awake when he returns, the rest of the town doing much the same. 

The smell of a sweet cigar hits his nose before he sees the man holding it between his teeth, his boot-clad foot tapping a nervous staccato against the ground. He removes the cigar, blowing out a plume of smoke in the opposite direction and turns to Genji, casual as you please.

“You weren’t in yer room. Missed a real important call.” He says.

Genji takes a step forward, head low, defensive. “You. Jesse, wasn’t it?”

The man smiles, a genuine looking thing, but something about him has Genji twitching all over, ready for a fight. He  _ wasn’t right _ . 

“Mhm, that’s me. Yer Hanzo’s brother. Genji?”

Genji nods, watches Jesse tap out his cigar on the brick. 

“What are you doing here?”

Jesse’s eyes flick over to him and he looks away, out into the parking lot. “Here on yer brother’s behalf, though I don’t figure he knows I’m here.” 

Genji moves without thinking, body reacting purely on instinct. The next thing he realizes, he’s got Jesse pinned against the door, both hands twisted up in his red shirt. “What did you do to him?”

Jesse seems entirely unaffected, holding both of his hands up by his face. His hat is askew, but he doesn’t fix it. “Reckon I saved his life.” Genji releases just a touch. “Well, I helped. Those dragons of his are really somethin’.” He says, eyes narrowing. “You got one too, don’t’cha?” He asks, placing his fingers over the bare strip of skin on Genji’s wrist. 

Genji releases Jesse instantly, feeling as though he’s been shocked. His wrist is fine once he examines it, but his dragon is going absolutely wild, twisting and pushing under his skin, desperate to be free. 

“Inside.  _ Now. _ ” He says, opening the door and shouldering his way into the room, tearing off his jacket with a force that nearly snaps the zipper clean across the room. 

Behind him, while he does his best not to claw at his sides, Jesse calmly closes the door and waits in the corner.

“Nobody but close family knows about the dragons,” He says, sitting heavily on his bed once he’s sure his own dragon won’t come bursting from his back. 

Jesse shrugs, watching Genji with a careful eye that has him on edge all over again. His eyes were too bright in the low light of the motel room. Edges too blurred. How did Hanzo not notice this?

“Ain’t hard to feel ‘em if you know what t’ look for.” Jesse says, leaning with his back against the wall, feet crossed at the ankle in front of him, hands clasped together. 

“No. What I’m saying is, people normally don’t even know to  _ look. _ ” He frowns. “You were there, weren’t you?”

Jesse smiles.

“Thinkin’ I should fill ya in.”


	7. Ancient Cowboy

 

Art by [kitsune2022-artish](http://kitsune2022-artish.tumblr.com)

 

Jesse suppresses a snarl as the beast turns tail and escapes, too cowardly to face him again after their first encounter. His anger is misdirected, however. He could do little but try and drive this monster out from his lands.

At first, Jesse doesn’t even realize that Hanzo has passed out. It’s not until he leans down further, sniffing his prone form, does he really take in the state the poor man had been left in.

There’s blood everywhere, a growing pool of it under Hanzo, a short trail of it where he’d dragged himself away in a futile effort to escape.

Jesse huffs, his ears pulling back flat on his head.

Why him? Why Hanzo?

He had taken as easy liking to this man, greatly enjoyed their discussions, and how conveniently Hanzo seemed to find him. Jesse liked the way Hanzo reacted to his soft flirtations, the mutual interest there.

Jesse knew it was a fleeting thing, had to be. This man wasn’t planning on staying too long, he could feel it on him.

But to have things end like _this_...it hurt more than Jesse expected. He’d lost countless acquaintances, friends, and companions over the years, with some of them sticking out in his mind. Hanzo was no exception.

Hanzo is still breathing when Jesse sniffs him again, a ragged, wet shuddering noise. It bothers Jesse to even hear him. He can’t prolong this any further, even if it’s something he doesn’t really want to do.

He blinks in the dark, bending down to send Hanzo off peacefully. He’d have to find his brother…

Before he gets the chance, however, the subtle glow across Hanzo’s skin blooms in a spark, rushing from him in waves, the smell of ozone hitting Jesse as he takes a step back in confusion. His ears swivel forward.

Two swirling blue shapes twist in front of him, glowing and transparent, ethereal, and unlike anything Jesse has seen in an age.

Long winding whiskers adorn the sides of their faces, regal horns atop their glimmering blue heads, eyes almost blindingly white when they focus on Jesse’s face. One of them twitches its nose.

 _It is not his time._ Twin voices filter into Jesse’s head, the language only mildly familiar but the meaning clear as day.

Jesse lowers his head. _He’s dyin’._

_Yes. But we can save him. It is not too late._

_He’ll bleed out. He’s in pain, can’t you sense it?_ Jesse steps forward again, the two dragon spirits writhing around his face.

_We cannot do it on our own, our energy is tied with his, we can only give him so much. You must help him._

Jesse growls. _I was about to! This is the only way I can help!_

The dragons twist once more, momentarily fusing into one body, their glow almost brighter than Jesse can stand. The pair drifts and they press their nose against Jesse’s muzzle.

Jesse watches until they become almost entirely white, then closes his eyes from the gleam.

_There is another way. We do not ask for help lightly, but we ask for it now._

Frustration is clear in Jesse’s tone when he replies, his ears flat again and body tense. _I don’t understand. What can I do? All I am is this, there is nothing else._

The dragons make a soft keening sound and press forward against his nose with more insistence. _Lend us your energy. Just a small part. We can save him._

A way to save someone? _How?_

_We cannot be killed. Complete your task and send us away. We will use that burst to heal him._

_What if it fails?_

The dragons are silent for a moment, sparks arcing off their shimmering body, particles of light escaping them as they hover. _We must try._

Jesse doesn’t like this. It has been hundreds of years since he’s spoken to a dragon, let alone two of them inhabiting the same body at once. Just who was Hanzo, to have such loyal spirits bound to him?

The dragons press against his nose again, their bodies oddly cool to the touch. He breathes in that smell of a storm, eyes wide despite the glare, and _pushes_.

The dragons both gasp and fly apart, small noises of surprise and anxiety falling from their mouths as they twist and wind back down to Hanzo’s form.

They waste no time, returning to their spots on Hanzo’s arm, causing a faint blue glow to emanate from him that spreads across his entire body, the glow almost engulfing him before everything goes dark.

Jesse blinks the night from his eyes and cautiously steps closer. Hanzo’s breathing has dramatically improved, no longer rattling, now smooth, as if in a deep sleep. He noses at him some, snuffling and trying to determine if the bleeding has ceased.

His leg is...still a mess, but whatever artery had been damaged is healed, and the blood steadily oozing from the wound is no more. Jesse lets the tension fall from his limbs, and in doing so, realizes something...odd.

He is breathing.

He... _does not_ breathe. Not automatically. Not without using some concentration to keep up his human façade. Which, granted, he’s only barely beginning to get the hang of.

He tries desperately to stop, but his chest feels tight when he does, and his nose twitches. Behind him, his tail sways with uncertainty, hackles raised. _What in the hell…?_

When Hanzo groans a minute later, Jesse resolves to figure this out later. Right now, he has to get this man out of here.

Jesse steps over Hanzo’s prone form and pushes up some of his jacket to his neck, creating enough extra fabric to grasp between his teeth.

Once he has Hanzo securely in his jaws, dangling from his mouth like a pup, he dissipates into the air.

 

\--

 

Dressing Hanzo’s wounds was no easy task. He had limited items available to him, and what Hanzo had on his person were flimsy and worthless against what Jesse had tried to hide. He settles for using the gauze to secure one of his more tattered shirts around the remains of Hanzo’s lower leg, keep it out of sight and safe.

It’s difficult to move with an unconscious partner. Jesse eventually had to move on foot, as he kept nearly losing Hanzo each time he jumped. It was frustrating. At least when he transported conscious people, they could be sure to keep themselves in the same realm, out of courtesy if nothing else.

Hanzo shivers against his flank, turning ever so slightly and curling his fist through the soft hairs on Jesse’s thigh. They lie on a pile of old blankets, furs and hides on the floor of a small den he’s carved from the side of the Caja del Rio plateau, out of the watchful eye of tourists and various officials. He’s taken up residence here since he was first willed into existence by those who wished him to be.

The centuries were much kinder to the land than in other places he’s visited, changed so drastically by natural phenomena and humans alike. He’s witnessed most of the expansion in this direction, and the protection of this land later on.

He shifts, kicking out one of his legs so Hanzo doesn’t slide over onto the floor when he curls inwards again, perhaps trying to protect himself subconsciously from that which might attack him in his dreams.

Jesse whines and leans forward, his huge muzzle almost taking up most of Hanzo’s torso while he noses at the man’s chin and neck in a comforting gesture.

He has no idea how long Hanzo will be out, nor how long the dragon’s magic combined with his own energy will sustain him. Jesse knows he needs to get him to the hospital, but to get there in any feasible amount of time, he needs to travel quickly, and Hanzo needs to be awake for it.

He whines again, lowering his head on his paws, watching the way Hanzo’s face slackens, almost looking serene, if one ignored the circumstances. Unfortunately, Jesse could not.

Hanzo is a mystery to Jesse, if he was being honest with himself.

In all his years, he’s never met a human so tightly bound to a spirit before, let alone two of them. There have been humans who could channel spirits, yes. Those who could ask favors or those who allowed spirits to work through them. This was not unheard of.

But to have two _dragons_ no less, wholly loyal and willing to sacrifice anything...that sort of commitment took a special person, indeed.

Jesse’s tail thumps against his bedding a few times, eager as he is to welcome Hanzo back from the brink. But Hanzo stays unaware, only his mouth opening in a light, but almost pleasant snore.

Sometimes Jesse wishes he needed sleep, or something of that nature. He only really slept when his power had waned, when the people no longer remembered him. But it wasn’t ever a true sleep like the living experienced, he just ceased to be on this realm any further, and continued his business elsewhere. Occasionally when the land was quiet, and the natural passage of time became a burden for him, Jesse would lie on his bed and close his eyes for a few decades, only waking if something interesting was happening. Even then, he was always _aware_.

He is very thankful he woke when he did, or else this creature in his territory might have taken over entirely. Jesse finds himself growling at the thought.

And that’s what rouses Hanzo from his rest, his eyes blinking warily down at his own hands, then around the room, before finally growing wide and zeroing in on Jesse at last.

_Please don’t scream._

Hanzo screams.

And he continues to scream, doing his best to push himself backwards, away from the face of a massive coyote, and only succeeds in pressing against Jesse’s flank more fully. He manages to get a fistful of Jesse’s fur from his side ripped out in the process, but Jesse is willing to forgive him. It will grow back.

_Please stop, you’re only upsettin’ yourself, sugar._

Somehow, that works, despite Jesse knowing full well Hanzo cannot hear him this way, with only his muzzle opening and closing a bit, unable to form what he’s trying to say with this mouth.

Hanzo’s looking at him like he’s seen a ghost, which is somewhat true, he supposes. The look of fear morphs into astonishment and then drifts carefully into curiosity, with Hanzo bending at the waist and trying to reach out to touch Jesse’s nose. He helps him by lying his head over Hanzo’s good leg.

Hanzo’s fingers are thick and his nails blunt, and they feel nice dragging through the short fur of his muzzle and head. Jesse licks his wrist in gratitude.

“What did you call me just now, Coyote?”

It takes Jesse a moment longer than he cared to admit to realize he’s being spoken to. _What?_

Hanzo continues to pet him, doing it as much for himself as for Jesse, though Jesse suspects it’s more so to help calm himself down. “The name.” Hanzo repeats.

Jesse tilts his head, one ear flopping a bit with the movement. _You can hear me?_

Hanzo pauses his hand motions, fingers still against Jesse’s nose. “...yes? In my head, I think. But I can hear you, too. But you aren’t saying words, just…” He shrugs and looks at Jesse.

Jesse has no answers, if Hanzo were looking for anying. _Humans are not supposed t’ hear me like this._

Hanzo frowns, face going a bit pale. “Does that mean-”

_No! You are still alive. However, I had to make a decision that I think has affected you and I more than I meant._

“What do you mean?”

_Your dragons, they’re loyal to you, did ya know that?_

“Yes. What do they have to do with any of this? I didn’t call for them.”

_They saved your life. But they needed me, some of my energy or…something...to help. I was able to lend them what they needed, but in doing so…_

Hanzo lets his hand slide from Jesse’s face, curling it back in his lap with the other. He has yet to look at his wrapped leg, and Jesse cannot blame him for ignoring it. “Am I tied here?”

Jesse just looks at Hanzo for a long moment. _No? You shouldn’t be. You are still...ya feel like your own person, Hanzo. You’re tied to nothing._

Hanzo frowns. “How do you know my name?”

At this, Jesse lacks answers. Nobody here knew who he really was, and it was better this way. He could continue on with his duty, and also try out being something he wasn’t, if only for a few years before others got suspicious. And no one ever thought to bother him, or try and follow him back to his home. Not that they could either way, but the deceit left him unbothered and most importantly, _free._

“What are you, really?”

_I am exactly what you see._

“Bullshit.”

Jesse lifts his head, his ears going back at the tone in Hanzo’s voice.

“I’ve seen a few coyote spirits before, they are very similar to the foxes we have back home: tricksters and miscreants. You are neither. So what are you?”

_I think you are generalizing a-_

“I’ve studied spirits and creatures all my life, Coyote. And I’ve never come across one like you. What makes you so different?”

_I’ve been a spirit all my life, Hanzo. And I ain’t never come across a human like you either. I can ask the same. Why do you have dragons attached to your soul?_

“I was born with them. Why do you so readily refuse your nature?”

_That being?_

“Trickery and deceit for your own gain!” Hanzo stares as Jesse lifts his head up further, towering over Hanzo even like this.

_That ain’t my nature. I didn’t come into this world because I wanted to. I came because I was needed._

“What were you needed for?”

_The people who first came to this land were sick, and they feared death. I eased their fear, and removed the sick. They wanted me here, so now I am._

While Hanzo seems reluctant to believe Jesse entirely, the fight has now left his system since he first woke. Though, without a distraction, he’s slowly realizing his actual condition.

_I need to take you to the hospital._

Hanzo doesn’t look up at him, only stares at his wrapped leg with a blank face. “Why? I thought my dragons healed me.”

_Even with my help, they could only pull ya from the brink, but you need care. It ain’t pretty, best if y’ don’t pick at it._

Jesse noses Hanzo’s hand away from his leg, and Hanzo pulls his arm back slowly, almost as if he’s in a dream, eyes still locked on the wrappings.

“How did you bandage me?”

Jesse huffs. _I got my ways. Lean forward, we should go now that you’re awake._

Hanzo does as he’s asked without any backtalk, though Jesse suspects the shock is starting to really sink in now, and he has to work fast if he wants to get to the hospital in time. He manages to get Hanzo in an awkward crouch, hands gripping the thick fur of his neck, before he stands to full height.

Hanzo shifts around on his back, a little unsteady on his injured side, but he settles enough for Jesse to take a few experimental steps forward.

 _Hold on tight._ He warns, walking back out into the chill of the night, though now there’s a dim pink and orange shimmer in the distance. The promise of morning about to break.

_Alright, I need ya t’ pay real close attention, okay?_

“Yes.”

_Hold on as tight as you can. Ya won’t hurt me so don’t worry about that. But put all your focus on stayin’ with me. Can you do that for me?_

“I think so.”

_Good. If you feel like yer slipping, or getting disoriented, tell me so, and I’ll stop. I don’t wanna lose you._

Jesse turns just enough that he can see Hanzo looking down at his fur in full concentration, grip tight as he’s able, then he takes off.

He’s not really running in the usual sense. His body doesn’t go through the expected motions. There’s no wind, but the landscape whips around him in a blur. In the cracks of the fog, things not of earth reside, and Jesse uses these footholds to springboard himself across a landscape in the blink of an eye. Physical barriers in one realm mean little to him when they don’t exist in the one he travels through.

Somehow he’s able to tell Hanzo’s got his eyes squeezed shut, and he seems to be trying to hold his breath.

_There is nothing here that will hurt’cha, you know. You can look._

“Mn. No. Makes me dizzy.” Hanzo gets out after a moment longer, fingers threatening to pull more tufts of fur from Jesse’s body. He’ll have bald spots at this rate…

_We’re nearly there._

And they were. The lights of the hospital shine through the space between the worlds, and Jesse corrects his course a fraction so he doesn’t end up somewhere in a hallway like he is. That wouldn’t go over too well.

He comes to a stop in the parking lot, looking around to make sure nobody can see him before he lets his body almost dissolve into nothing and then reform into the human shape he’s been wearing lately. He has Hanzo in his arms bridal style, and when his eyes do not open after a second, Jesse fears perhaps he is too late.

But no. Hanzo’s merely passed out again at some point. Stubborn man.

Jesse looks at his face a while longer, and in the artificial light of the lot, he does look much paler, sickly, almost. Bringing him here was the right decision.

He shifts, and that has Hanzo blinking at him warily, his fingers brushing his chest. “Jesse?” He asks, voice full of confusion.

Jesse gives him a small smile before Hanzo’s drifting back out, and he shakes his head.

“C’mon, then.” He says, walking up to the hospital in a purposeful stride, Hanzo’s weight in his arms almost unnoticeable.

When he goes through the main entrance, the receptionist there greets him with wide eyes despite the circles under them, and the look on her face goes from a polite smile to horror.

“Oh, sir! What happened?” She asks, picking up a phone and calling for nurses and a gurney. “It wasn’t another one of those attacks, was it?” She blinks up at Jesse with a watery expression, her concerned look flicking over to Hanzo’s leg and back to Jesse.

“Well ma’am, that’s what I’m hoping y’all will figure out for me. Found ‘im out in the field in a big pool of blood. I did my best t’ patch him, but I ain’t too good at this medical stuff.” Jesse says, pretending to adjust Hanzo in his arms.

The nurses make their way around the corner not a moment later and help Jesse lie Hanzo flat on his back. They give Jesse a nod before moving out and through a door he knows he isn’t allowed in.

“Don’t worry sir, he’s in good care now. Do you happen to know who he is?”

“Uh, hold on now.” Jesse says, holding out one hand and patting down his jacket pockets, eventually coming across the right one, handing Hanzo’s wallet over. “I’ve run into him a few times ‘round town. His brother’s here up in the old motel. You could call up there. I’m sure he’s worried an’ would love to know where his brother’s at.”

“Yes, of course, thank you!” The receptionist says, already picking the phone back up. She has a sheet in front of her with most of the known business phone numbers, and she drags her finger down the list.

Jesse sees this as his opportunity, and when he’s sure she’s no longer paying him any attention, he vanishes.  


	8. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter before the proper update this Sunday. Enjoy!

Genji presses his lips together, staring blankly at the wall. “Okay.” He stands up from the bed, approaching Jesse slowly. “How long has he been there?”

“Well,” He starts, drawing the word out lazily. “He should be out of surgery by now, I imagine.” He says. “If you’d been in yer room, you would’ve gotten the call from the hospital.”

At this, the weight Genji’s been carrying since he woke up lifts, somewhat. “He...how is he? Can I see him? Where’s the hospital?”

Jesse’s eyes widen just a fraction. “Whoa, slow down a moment.” He holds one hand out. “Hospital’s on the other side of town. I brought ‘im there after he woke up from the whole ordeal.” He sighs. “He had lost a lotta blood, y’know, and while his dragons were able to stop the bleedin’, he was still weak. Couldn’t do much for him on my own.”

Genji had been trying to follow the story, but was still coming up short. “I’ve never heard of the dragons healing anyone.” He says, looking at Jesse carefully, in case he had reason to lie. Not that Genji could figure out why he’d lie in the first place. It’s just...unheard of, for the dragons to help with anything outside of combat.

“Uh, I mean, I don’t rightly understand it all either, might be best if ya ask him yourself.”

“Can we leave now?” 

Jesse pushes off the wall, dipping his head to peek out the window. “Yeah, would be best t’ get goin’. I’m guessin’ you’re wanting to see him.”

“Yeah. I need to know that he’s okay.” Genji says firmly, straightening up. This Jesse guy wasn’t so bad, even if he did make some of the hairs on Genji’s arms stand on end. 

“You n’ me both.” Jesse says, opening the motel door and waiting for Genji to exit.

Genji steps back out into the parking lot, divested now of his backpack and jacket. “Shit.”

“Hm?”

“Hanzo truck. It’s still back at the scene.”

Jesse hums, scratching his fingers through his beard. Genji catches Jesse looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“What?” He asks, squinting up at this man. He looks less...out of place in the daylight. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Ah. Well, y’see. I can get us where we’re goin’ real quick. But I’m thinkin’...” He taps his cheek. “Do ya trust me?”

“Not at all.”

That just makes Jesse grin wide. “You sure are Hanzo’s brother.” He says, laughing a little. “Suspend that grudge ya got against me for just one moment, will ya? Here, grab onto my sleeve real tight.”

He inches over more into Genji’s space, and Genji almost has the thought to back away, but Jesse stops before he gets too close. 

His arm’s out, like Genji is supposed to link elbows with him and trot merrily on down the way. One of Jesse’s eyebrows raise at Genji’s hesitation.

“So you’re telling me to grab your arm and we’ll be at the hospital?”

Jesse shrugs. “Somethin’ like that.”

Genji grumbles, having no other options than hoping a taxi exists in this place, which he highly doubts, or walking. With a very strong suspicion nothing at all will happen, that Jesse’s story had multiple points of embellishment, Genji grabs on tightly to Jesse’s arm. “What do you take-” He starts, leaning his head back. 

The world around him seems to stretch outwards, everything thinning impossibly. Jesse’s grinning. Genji’s breath gets caught in his throat.

A second later, they stand off to the side of the hospital. 

“-me for?” Genji squeaks, looking at the building owlishly, still clutching to Jesse’s arm for dear life. “Oh. Okay so you were telling the truth. Good to know.” 

Jesse humors him for a bit longer before he wiggles his arm. Genji quickly detaches himself and makes some distance from Jesse, who has this smug look on his face. However, that look quickly dissolves, and he locks on to a window with a harsh intensity. 

“He’s awake. Third floor, room three o’ eight. I’ll distract the lady at the counter an’ meet you up there.”

Genji’s agreeing before he’s really gotten a change to digest the fact he’s already at the hospital, and now Jesse’s left him alone on the sidewalk.

He slowly moves inside. Once he realizes Jesse’s making good on his promise of distraction, he starts a purposeful stride to the back stairwell, taking the steps two at a time when he’s out of sight. 

Hanzo’s door is just down the main hall, at the end before the corner. 

Genji’s dragon stirs again, that warmth radiating out from his spine the closer he gets to the door.

“Anija?” He whispers, pushing the door open and poking his head inside. 

Hanzo lies on his back, a thin white sheet over his body, pulled up to his midsection and obscuring most of the damage, though not too well. There’s a space in the bed where his other leg should be, and Genji does his best not to look at it much. 

Parts of Hanzo’s arms are bandaged, and a wrap sits tightly around the top of his head at a slight angle, making some of his hair stick up oddly. 

“Hanzo,” Genji tries again, walking into the room and closing the door behind himself.

Hanzo’s fingers twitch once, then curl loosely into the sheet. His eyes are closed, but Genji just waits patiently beside him, still full of worry. 

“Hanzo, it’s me. It’s Genji.”

This does it.

Hanzo’s eyes flutter open, blinking the harsh light of the hospital away, then he settles an unfocused stare on Genji. His mouth quirks at the edges. 

“Genji. You’re okay.”

“That’s my line, brother.” Genji chides, scooting a chair over to the side of the bed and sitting down. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mm. Like shit. But I’ll live.” Hanzo says, closing his eyes and leaning his neck back against the pillow behind him. “Did the sheriff tell you I was here?”

Genji huffs. “No. She thought you were with me, at the motel. Nobody knew where you were.”

Hanzo shakes his head, but doesn’t move it from the pillow. He lifts one hand weakly, eyes still closed, and points across the room. “He did.” He says. 

At first Genji thinks maybe the meds are affecting him, but then a deep voice sounds behind him. “I did, yeah.” Jesse says, and Genji nearly jumps out of his skin.

“How did you - the door was closed!”

Jesse approaches the bed, standing at the foot of it, looking at the both of them. “So?”

“I didn’t even hear you sneak in.”

“Don’t have to sneak. I just show up.” He takes his hat off, placing it in the vacant spot on the bed, and runs a hand through his hair. He looks up at Hanzo, who seems to have decided sitting up was somewhat worth the effort. “Any better, darlin’?”

Genji makes a face. “ _ Darling _ ?” At his questioning, the both of them have the decency to duck their heads down a little, though Hanzo seems a touch defiant. 

“He can call me whatever he wants. I owe this man my life, Genji.”

Jesse rubs at the back of his neck, looking away. “Aw, it ain’t like that. Yer dragons did most o’ the work.” 

Hanzo shakes his head, and Genji watches the exchange curiously. 

“You still brought me to the hospital afterwards. I heard them talking, the nurses.”

“What’d they say?” Genji asks, leaning on the bed. 

Hanzo reaches up to rest the back of his hand against Genji’s arm. Genji appreciates the gesture, even if he’s not sure why Hanzo feels the need to comfort  _ him _ . “Said they weren’t sure I was going to make it through surgery with how much blood I lost. If I’d been found later…” He lets out a breath. 

“Thank you, Jesse.” Hanzo says after the room remains quiet for a few minutes. “I...please forgive my rudeness before.”

Jesse gives Hanzo a thumbs up. “All’s forgiven. You weren’t in yer right mind then.”

Hanzo smiles weakly, then turns back to Genji and gives his arm a light squeeze. “Genji, may I have a moment alone please? I need to discuss something with Jesse. It won’t take long, I promise. I want to tell you everything that happened.”

Genji’s nodding without taking in the words. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Okay. Just...give me a moment. I’ll send Jesse out when I’m done.”

Genji smiles and lets himself back out the room, head a whirlwind of information, questions, answers, and even more questions. There’s some blue, awkwardly uncomfortable chairs outside of each room. Genji takes a seat in one, pulls out the rest of his granola bar, and waits.


	9. Breathe In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (warning for mention of depression & thoughts of death)

Jesse watches as Genji leaves the room, keeping his eyes on the door a bit longer than he had any reason to. Something about Hanzo has him fidgeting, feeling like an imposter in his own skin. Which, granted, he certainly is, but he’s never felt like this before around anyone. 

Hanzo’s dark eyes are on him, almost black in the white overhead lights. Exhaustion comes off Hanzo in waves that cut straight through him.

A drip of medicine, the steady beep of the machine next to the bed, the soft buzzing of the lights; the room is nothing close to silent. But Jesse can hear Hanzo’s breathing clearly, as if he’s lying his head against the man’s chest, lulled by the gentle rise and fall.

It reminds him he’s  _ still breathing _ , too. It feels foreign to him, but less so in this form. He normally doesn’t bother pretending unless he knows someone is looking at him.

Like right now.

He swallows and turns to the bed. Hanzo’s hands are in his lap, folded over each other loosely. He nods at the seat Genji had left nearby.

Jesse sits down mechanically. “So.”

“So.”

Jesse rubs the back of his neck, opens his mouth to explain, but Hanzo beats him to it.

“You’re the Coyote.”

“Yeah, sure am. I uh, really wanted t’ tell ya earlier. Back when you were askin’ me all manner of questions. But, I wasn’t too sure what sort of folks you an’ yer brother were. There’s been people come out this way lookin’ to kill me.” He shrugs, chancing another look at Hanzo. His eyes were almost bruised purple, a split in his lower lip. Some of his hair still had blood matted on the side. It hurt Jesse to look at him. 

Hurt worse to sit so close, too, without being able to do anything. There were worse pains lingering in Hanzo than the wounds he’d sustained last night. 

Jesse’s eyes drift down the bed.  _ Well. _

“You can be killed?” Hanzo asks, head tilted.

This has Jesse pausing for a moment. His hands itch with the urge to reach out and offer some sort of comfort. Even with the pain medicine running through his veins, Hanzo is not in the best of shape.

“Don’t rightly know, sugar. I ain’t fittin’ to go ‘round looking for a fight I might not be able to win.” Hanzo turns, looking out the window at the parking lot below. Jesse reaches forward cautiously, cupping one of his hands over both of Hanzo’s. He keeps talking once he’s sure Hanzo won’t pull away. “Been forgotten about a couple’a times, had no way of getting back here. But folks always remember me, when they need me.”

Hanzo turns back, his eyes not on Jesse, but rather their hands on his lap. “So you can’t be killed, as long as someone needs you.”

Jesse’s not sure where this line of questioning is going, but he’s more than happy to hear Hanzo’s voice, a little weak, not as strong as before, but still the same rich timber. If nothing else, Hanzo looks like he needs the distraction. He clears his throat when he realizes he’s been silent too long. “Seems t’ be.”

Hanzo hums, his eyes staring blankly ahead of himself, and for a moment Jesse assumes perhaps he needs more rest.

But then Hanzo turns his hand over, palm up, and  _ squeezes _ Jesse’s hand so harshly that Jesse’s afraid he might hurt himself with the effort. “Hey, Hanzo…” He flicks his eyes back to Hanzo’s face and stops talking.

Hanzo’s eyes are red around the rims now, glossy with unshed tears gathering at the corners, ready to spill if he moves a muscle. His lips are downturned into a grimace, his jaw clenching, a little muscle on the side of his face twitching with the effort not to lash out.

He’s got his shoulders forward, making himself smaller, even though every line of his body is drawn tight in tension. 

Jesse leans in some more, squeezing Hanzo’s hand in return, though he’s careful not to hurt him. “Shh, enough of this.” He says, keeping his voice low. His thumb strokes over Hanzo’s hand, back and forth, back and forth, trying to sooth him. 

It doesn’t really work.

Hanzo rips his free hand from his lap and grabs at the blanket tossed over himself, balling it up. “I almost  _ died _ .” He spits. “I thought I had.”

“Hey now, you’re here. You’re fine.” Jesse says, swallowing down a stressed whine. He can feel his own heart rate tick up, his breathing become more erratic. He wants to cry out, hurt something, and curl into a ball all at once and he has no idea why. He only knows he needs to help Hanzo. Somehow.

Hanzo growls and turns to Jesse, ripping the blanket off entirely and leaving it half hanging over the side of his bed. “Does this look  _ fine _ to you?” He demands, and Jesse has no other choice but to look.

The wound is hidden now, more of the leg removed than Jesse expected, but he supposes he’s no expert on this sort of thing. Hanzo’s leg ends before his knee, the mangled mess Jesse remembers vividly as he tried to patch it up the best he could is gone. Left instead is a smooth, rounded shape, covered with bandages and small gauze-like sleeve to keep everything in place. 

Jesse sighs. “Hanzo, what matters is that you’re alive.” He says carefully.

“How am I supposed to do my job like this? My family trains for this life from birth, I know nothing else. I have nothing else.” He stops, swallowing thickly, and pulls his hand out of Jesse’s grip. 

Jesse immediately misses the contact, even as a hard, cold sense of dread sits heavy in his stomach. “That ain’t true. Y’ still got your brother. Still got your wits about ya.” Jesse sighs. “Not everythin’ is lost, Hanzo. You’re more than your work.”

Hanzo says nothing, lips pressed thin. Then he inhales sharply, and a spike of pain runs through Jesse’s spine from the depth of it.

“They were deliberate.” Hanzo whispers, eyes wide like he’s just now discovering a secret he’s been seeking the answer to for years. 

Jesse sits up. “What was?”

“The mistakes. I’ve been reckless.” He turns to Jesse, pale-faced and shaking. “Jesse, I-” He blinks, tears shocked from his system. “When I was attacked, I was afraid.”

Jesse nods. “That’s normal t’ be afraid.” He says softly, unsure where Hanzo’s going with this, but sensing he needed a reply before he’d continue.

Hanzo shakes his head. “I was afraid of the pain, but…” He looks up, reaches out. Jesse grabs one of Hanzo’s hands in both of his own, pulling it against his chest. “I wasn’t afraid of dying. Not how you’re supposed to be.”

“It was the shock,” Jesse offers, but Hanzo’s shaking his head again, more determined this time.

“ _ No. _ ” He says, voice barely above a whisper, but harsh in Jesse’s ears for how close he is. “I could feel myself slipping, and I was...I  _ accepted it _ .” He says, looking at Jesse as if he had answers. Hanzo sucks in a breath like he hadn’t meant for those words to escape him, but now that they were out, he keeps his eyes on Jesse, searching for something that Jesse wishes he had to give.

Jesse leans forward over the bed, letting go of Hanzo’s hand, and instead gathering him into his arms. Hanzo goes willingly, tucking his head up under Jesse’s chin, his face pressed against Jesse’s thin shirt. 

Jesse can feel tears and the tight feeling of sobs begging to be let free in his chest, but they were not his own, he realizes with a start. Hanzo shivers violently against him, but stays silent otherwise, keeping everything inside. 

With only a bit of trepidation, Jesse lifts his hand from Hanzo’s back, and does his best to focus on the single thing he could do to help. Hanzo lets out one, broken sounding sob as Jesse slowly runs his hand down his back. Everywhere his fingers trace, Jesse can feel the tension drain from the man against him, his fingers heating up Hanzo’s cool skin, the pain and the doubts muffled, for a time. 

Hanzo stills in his arms, his breathing regular and his heart rate settling. He practically melts against Jesse’s chest, and Jesse lets Hanzo gather himself in his own time while he traces his fingers over Hanzo’s spine in what he hopes is a comforting manner. 

Jesse rests his chin on top of Hanzo’s head, pulling him in closer once he feels Hanzo relax. It was nice to hold someone else like this, Jesse thinks, having barely ever given the opportunity for much contact otherwise. He understood now, why humans always craved each other’s touch, each other’s presence. This was something he could easily get used to, if he wasn’t careful.

A few tears find their way into Jesse’s shirt, warm and salty as they soak into the cotton. Jesse tilts his head to the side, resting his scruffy cheek against Hanzo’s hair and trying to put his energy into soaking up what hurts he could.

He’s never taken someone’s pain like this before. It’s still there, of course, he cannot rid Hanzo of everything he’s feeling, but at least it’s manageable. And it seems to have done the trick, when a few minutes later Hanzo eventually pulls back, red faced from shame as he dries his eyes on the discarded blanket. 

Jesse gives him a warm smile, and is pleased when Hanzo returns a hesitant one of his own. 

“Please...don’t tell Genji what I’ve said.” He whispers, a little while later. “He deserves to hear everything from me. There is… much we’ve to discuss.”

“Of course, darlin’. Won’t say a peep.”

Hanzo smiles a bit wider. “Thank you.” He looks down at this bed and slowly pulls the blanket back over his leg, tucking it under his thigh so it wouldn’t come loose. “And...Jesse. Thank you, for everything else. I owe you so much.” 

Jesse stands from the chair, shaking his head. “You don’t owe me nothin’. Jus’ focus on recoverin’ so your brother don’t worry too much.” He grins. “So  _ I  _ don’t worry too much. Yeah?”

Hanzo huffs and turns away, but Jesse doesn’t miss the blush on his face. “How do I look?” He asks, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand.

Jesse takes in his mussed hair, dark bruise-like coloring around his eyes, puffy face and otherwise tired look, and gives him a wink. “Gorgeous.” He says, earning himself a roll of the eyes and a scoff.

Good, if Hanzo’s got it in himself to snap back, Jesse knows he’ll be okay for now.

“Send Genji back in on your way out, will you?” 

“Tryin’ to get rid of me so soon? Ya wound me, Hanzo.”

Hanzo looks at him for a time, then. Dark eyes searching his face before he replies. “No. I just wish to speak with my brother. I’m sure he’s restless outside.”

Jesse turns towards the door. “He is. Probably hungry, too. I can take him down for a breakfast once you guys’re done, if ya want.”

Hanzo seems pleased. “I’ll let him know of your offer.”

Jesse grabs his hat off the end of Hanzo’s bed and places it back on his head before he pauses with his hand on the handle of the door. He turns and tips his hat in Hanzo’s direction with a smile. Hanzo shakes his head and looks out the window, trying to hide his smile. Anything he could do to help him feel better, Jesse would be sure to do. Something in him needed to.

Genji sits splayed out in one of the waiting chairs, half asleep by the looks of him. “Yer brother’s wantin’ ya.” He says. Genji makes a non-committal noise as he stands, stretching out his back. He pats Jesse on the shoulder a few times when he passes by, giving him a nod. 

Once Genji’s inside, already talking to a mile a minute, Jesse closes the door behind himself.

The halls smells sterile, like aneceptics and bleach. By now more staff roam the halls, a few giving him a brief look, but for the most part he’s left well enough alone. He’s still breathing, though it’s less noticeable than it had been at first. He places a hand on his chest, mind swimming with hundreds of thoughts. 


	10. Truth of the Beast

Genji leaves Hanzo’s room far sooner than Jesse is expecting, though it helps to see him less tense. Less like he’s going to try and hurt something. Or someone.

“Hey, Genji,” Jesse says, and Genji starts, almost jumping out of his skin like he hadn’t thought Jesse would still be around. Jesse gives him his best grin. It seems to work as intended.

“Hey.” Genji shifts awkwardly. “Hanzo’s resting, so-”

“Yeah, no I know. I thought perhaps we should talk?”

Genji looks up. “About what? Hanzo already confirmed what happened.” He sighs. “You saved him, and I’m thankful for that, really I am. I don’t know what I would’ve done had-” He reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Thank you. But I’ve got a lot of work left to do still.”

Jesse intercepts Genji as he tries to brush passed him, and he ignores the irritated look tossed his way. “About that. I can help.”

This stops Genji, and he turns to look at Jesse over his shoulder. “Oh yeah? Why didn’t you help before? You’ve been talking to Hanzo this whole time.” Genji turns back to him, voice lowered in a whisper. “How do I know you’re not working with that… that thing that did this to him? He says you saved him, but he was delirious from the pain.” Genji edges closer, tilting his chin up to look at Jesse directly. “What if you were just interrupted last night, and now you’re trying to lure me away so you can finish the job? You could be lying!” He hisses. “You’ve been nothing but a false lead, a dead end that’s led Hanzo astray this whole time!”

Jesse balks, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Ya think so little of me?”

Genji lifts his hand, waving it in the air next to him. “I don’t know what to think! My brother’s missing a leg, we’re no closer to finding out what’s going on, and now we’ve got some… some  _ coyote _ sniffing about our business! You could kill me if you wanted, how am I supposed to trust what you say?”

“Most things could kill you if they wanted. But I can’t.” Jesse says, keeping his voice level. “I ain’t made for killin’. It’s just not who I am.” He sags a bit, letting himself slouch closer to Genji’s level, which takes some of the edge off the man’s shoulders. “I didn’t help y’all at first because I assumed you two were here t’ get rid of me. I’ve been gettin’ blamed for this carnage for damned near two decades now, an’ I’m sick of it, but I can’t do shit about it.”

Genji says nothing, so Jesse continues. “Once I figured ya guys knew it wasn’t me, I tried t’ help Hanzo some. Answered his questions best I could without revealing too much. He jus’...wasn’t askin’ the right things. And I was afraid he wouldn’t believe what I had to say.” He gestures at Genji to follow him down the hall, which Genji does after a moment’s hesitation. 

“I...I wish I could’a got there sooner. I came the second I noticed somethin’ wasn’t right, but...there’s a lot of things dyin’ out in the desert at night, an’ it’s hard to hear through the noise. Even when you’re tryin’ to listen to one person in particular.” He draws out the last word as he leads Genji out the front of the hospital. 

“We’ve never had this much trouble before.” Genji says, once they’re in the parking lot. 

Jesse turns to him, waits for him to elaborate. 

“Back home, it’s not like this, the fumbling, the not knowing. We get the job done in a day or two and move on. It’s normally so obvious what’s real and what isn’t. But here…” Genji looks out at the desert stretched far and wide around them. “Here we’re a couple of strangers out of our depth.” He places a hand over his face and breathes out. “I brought Hanzo out here. Begged him to come to America with me for a hunt. Told him I didn’t want to do it alone. And now look what’s happened.”

“Ya can’t go blaming yerself for this, Genji. Your brother’s quick to do that, too. Must be a family thing, but I’ll have y’all know, what happened was neither of your faults.” Jesse pushes the brim of his hat from his forehead some to get a better look at the hurt expression on Genji’s face. “Now, I don’t rightly know if Karma’s real or not, but if she is, I reckon she’s gonna do right by Hanzo.”

He lets out a low breath, and places a heavy hand against Genji’s back. “C’mon,” Is the only warning Genji gets before Jesse’s bringing him halfway across town, out the back of the old diner. “Let’s get some food in yer belly an’ we’ll see what all I can help ya with. Deal?”

Genji lurches and leans against the side of the building once Jesse lets him go. He gives Genji an apologetic smile. “Sorry, should’a said somethin’, huh?”

Genji nods and lets out a little squeak. “Uh huh.” He says, voice small and breathy as he tries and gathers himself. “Why is that so terrible?”

“Hm? The teleporting?”

“Y-yeah, that.” Genji starts to round the side of the building on shaky legs, one hand on the brick to his side as he goes. Jesse follows behind him at a slow pace. 

“Uh, think it’s got somethin’ t’ do with the fact that you ain’t really moving so much, an’ yer brain don’t know what to do about it since ya  _ did _ move. Least that’s what folks have told me before.” He shrugs and ignores Genji’s side-eye as they enter the diner.

The door jingles as they walk through. The diner is one spot in this town that’s a constant, and a place of comfort for Jesse when the nights get rough. 

“Jesse! Welcome, welcome. Who’s your friend there?” Rosita moves from behind the counter with a casual sort of grace, a towel in one hand and a notepad in the other. 

“Howdy, ma’am.” Jesse greets with a smile.

Genji seems to have gotten himself together now, and stands up a little taller. He looks to Jesse before he introduces himself. “My name’s Genji.”

Rosita narrows her eyes at him, giving him a quick once over. “Say, you don’t happen to have a brother here, do ya?”

Genji blinks. “Uh, yeah, I do. You’ve seen him?”

She nods and ushers them towards a booth off to the side of the room, setting a menu in front of Genji. “Mhm, think so. You two look just alike. ‘Cept he had a lil’,” She uses her thumb and forefinger to mime the shape of a goatee over her mouth and chin with a chuckle. 

Jesse watches some more of the stress leave Genji’s body. He had a feeling this place would be good for him, and not just for the food. 

“Yeah that sounds like him. Though I’m way more handsome.” He gives Rosita a wink and she laughs outright now, turning back to Jesse with a wide grin on her rounded cheeks.

“He sure is a charmer, ain’t he?” She shakes her head and digs around her apron for her pen while she continues. “He was in here real early couple’a days ago, your brother. Looks like that runs in the family, hm?” She points at something across the room with her pen.

Jesse watches as Genji twists in his seat to stare at an old clock on the wall, brows raising at the time. 

“Ah well. Had an... early morning. I try not to make a habit of it.” Genji looks down and flicks at the lamination on the menu. 

Rosita skillfully ignores his shift in mood, holding her pen out triumphantly. “Good t’ hear, get all the beauty rest you can while you’re still young. See, it’s too late for me, but you got plenty of years left in ya yet.” 

Jesse shakes his head. “Nonsense. You look as radiant as ever, ma’am.”

She shifts her pen in Jesse’s direction now with a click of her tongue. “Point n’ case, you’d be callin’ me miss if that were true. Now, coffee for you, Jesse, and what would ya like, hun?” She turns to Genji, patient, pen at the ready. 

Genji manages to order something that sounds partially healthy and with that, Rosita heads to the back to put in the order and get Jesse his drink. He really had no need for the coffee, but it was warm going down, and with the right amount of sugar and cream, even tasted decent.

Once their drinks are on the table, and Jesse’s opened his fifth pack of sugar, Genji clears his throat.

“I guess I should ask what you wanted to talk about.” Genji starts, using his straw to move the ice cubes around in his glass. “You want to help, so help.”

“Well, I figure you don’t want me going over things y’all already know. What’s trippin’ up the investigation? Need t’ know how to kill it?”

Genji’s head snaps up faster than Jesse thought healthy for a human, but he keeps his expression neutral, for the most part. “Excuse me?”

Several things run through Jesse’s mind then. Either he’s got the whole thing wrong, and these two don’t actually kill on their hunts, or perhaps he’s misjudged and they know perfectly well what they are doing and how to do it, just looking for the right time, or, and this one’s the kicker,  _ the brothers have no idea who the killer is _ . 

Would make sense, what with Hanzo’s earlier questioning. 

Jesse quickly swallows down some coffee and does his best not to look Genji in the eye. Rosita was right, they were pretty damn similar when they got that look.

“The creature yer after,” Jesse says again, carefully. “Y’all know how to kill it, right?”

Genji keeps staring at him, eyes wide and unblinking, and Jesse starts to feel like he’s caught in some trap. 

“Oh lordy.” Jesse carefully removes his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and places the hat on the table next to him. “What...what’ve y’all got, far as information goes? Let’s start from there. What do you know?” Jesse crosses his arms over the top of the table.

Genji looks like he’s about to burst, but his face quickly falls once he looks around himself. “All my notes are on my tablet in the room.” He says. 

Jesse holds out a hand, glances towards the kitchen, and vanishes before Genji has a chance to ask.

It’s no trouble finding the room again, now that he’s been inside once before. Finding the tablet is another matter, but Genji’s things are opposite Hanzo’s for the most part, and after shoving his hand into a backpack, Jesse finds what he’s after. He takes a moment to run his hands over one of Hanzo’s shirts, feeling the trace of the man in his fingertips. Hanzo’s asleep, he can feel him even this far away. Jesse raises that hand, then, placing it back over his chest. Slow, steady breaths, deep… He shakes his head as he moves back to the diner’s restroom. 

He’d never understand dragon spirits entirely…

He walks out of the back with the tablet in hand just in time to see Rosita bringing Genji’s food to the table. Genji tries not to act surprised, but Rosita just smiles at him. “Now now, don’t go lookin’ like ya thought Jesse here up an’ left ya. He’s a gentleman, ain’t that right?” She turns to Jesse and gives him room to slide back into the booth. 

“Yes, ma’am. I try t’ be.” He slides Genji’s tablet to the side of his plate across the table. 

“Good to hear. So, I’ll be getin’ you a refill, an’ everything else look okay?” She asks Genji, who just nods. “Okay, be back in a sec with that coffee.”

As she walks off, Genji cuts through an egg with the side of his fork. “You just…went back to the room? How’d you get inside without the key?”

“You think I need keys?” Jesse asks, smiling.

Genji shrugs and eats a few bites of his food in silence. Once half his plate is gone, he turns on his tablet and pokes at the screen with his free hand. “Okay, so...I’ve got a pattern here, in my notes. That’s what I’ve been following.” He rotates the tablet around so Jesse can see things better.

On the screen sat two overlaid maps, and off to one side, a list of missing persons. “I managed to track down people who have been reported missing and connect a lot of those to crime scenes that have cropped up in the nearby area. There’s been more and more reported missing over the last few years, with less and less of their remains eventually being discovered, so I assumed…” He pauses, and looks up at Jesse. “You said earlier...you tried to...remove my brother’s body and then his dragons intervened. You’ve been getting rid of evidence.”

Jesse frowns, shaking his head. “It ain’t like that. I end suffering. The folks who were found had all died before I got there. There was no suffering for me to take from them, so there was nothing to be done.”

“Hanzo was still alive when you came to him. And your first instinct wasn’t to help, but to kill him to end his suffering?” Genji’s face hardens some, and he pulls the tablet closer to himself.

Jesse sits up straight in the booth, both hands out. “No! My  _ only _ instinct is to help, and that’s what I was gonna do!”

“You help by killing things. So they stop hurting.”

“I-”

Genji tilts his head. “You sure you’re not the monster doing all of this?”

“Stop.”

Jesse finds a fork being pointed in his direction. “Because from my patterns here, seems like you’ve been doing a lot more killing lately.”

Jesse places a hand down on the table. “I said  _ stop _ , Genji. Ya need to listen to me.”

“Do I?”

Jesse frowns, biting back a growl. “Yes. Turning the blame on me  _ again _ ain’t gonna help yer case, and it ain’t gonna help yer  _ brother _ . Look at the patterns once more. Tell me what’cha see.” 

Genji doesn’t back down right away, looking for a fight like he had been when Jesse first found him. Jesse knew it wasn’t anger directed at him, not really, but he had just been a convenience

After another moment, Genji shoves a slice of bacon in his mouth with more force than necessary and reviews his maps and his lists, brows drawing tighter with each passing minute.  

“Looks like,” He starts, sounding back to his usual self. “Whatever’s been doing this, it didn’t really get confident in its kills till about a decade after the first one. What changed, I’m not sure...but after about nine, ten years of this, something happened, and the killer got bolder, started going after people from the town and not those passing through anymore.” He points at something, and pinches the screen to zoom out and look at more of the map. “I guess this is where you started intervening, huh?”

“Mhm. Many of the first victims weren’t left alive for me t’ find. But soon, more an’ more were bleeding out, or in shock, or pleading for me when I found ‘em. They were bein’ abandoned like that on purpose.”

Genji frowns, pushes his empty plate to the edge of the table while Jesse adds more creamer to his third cup of coffee. “Right around here, about five years ago, we reached a peak in disappearances that never had a body to close the case, and after that, more and more bodies were showing up. Could you not keep up? Or were they too far gone for you to...help?”

Jesse sips at his coffee, looking down at the table. “Bit a’ both.”

“I’m sorry.” Genji says then, tone sincere. “It was wrong of me to blame you. You’re just...doing your best like the rest of us.” He leans back. “This is all the info I was able to gather on the deaths...now for the killer…”

Genji swipes through more files, and pulls up a folder with several documents and notes. “The deaths we have record of are consistent with a shifter of some sort. Intelligence in the act, signs of true evil in the way the attacks would prolong the pain of the victims, which normal animals do not do. Very little flesh missing, which again-”

“Animals kill because they’re hungry.” 

“Right, so lack of feeding and evidence of torture points to something that was human at some point. At least partially.” Genji sighs, and Jesse can tell he’s getting overwhelmed. 

“The more I would disappear the bodies of the victims, the more I came upon people who were too far gone for me to do much about.”

Genji makes a face. “Guess whoever’s doing this wants to see the fruits of their labor recognized. You taking away their hard work probably set them off. They killed more violently, to ensure the death would be noticed…”

“Mhm,” Jesse hums, pushing his mug around. “This sort of thing ain’t all too uncommon, even among normal humans, I believe.” 

“Yeah, unfortunately…” Genji slumps. “But not a lot of people even know about most of these killings. I came here based on the disappearances, some of the few reported deaths that were mostly travelers, and...uh. Your myth.” Genji looks up at him apologetically, and Jesse just waves him off. 

“I’m not surprised. I’m what this town’s been known for, after all.” He runs his hand through his hair, turning to watch the sun start its mid-morning arc through the sky. “Most of the reports don’t make it outta the town, for fear of driving away tourism an’ scaring the truckers to another rest stop. Ain’t too good for business.” 

“I already suspected the killer was a local, or someone from the area since all the deaths that were reported were close enough to the town that they’d be found by someone within a few days, but far enough away that the sounds of the murders wouldn’t draw unwanted attention.” Genji flicks through some more files, face scrunching up the more he reads. “Not many people have access to all the information, so if the killer wanted notoriety they’d have to be someone who-” Genji blinks, hunching over his tablet as he scrolls through another report he’d found. 

“The butcher…” He mumbles, and Jesse tilts his head. 

“Hm?”

“What the sheriff said. The Butcher Beast...a nickname that was given to the thing that killed all these people. She said that’s what the locals had been calling it. However,” He turns his tablet around, and on the screen was a handwritten report on one of the earlier killings. “‘I’ve given the creature a name.’ she said right here.” He points to a paragraph. “‘If there is to be a name for the papers, I find this one acceptable.’” 

Jesse looks up from the tablet at Genji, who has a very small smile on his face. He leans over the table now, threatening the rest of his drink with a misplaced elbow, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re the only one who knows the truth.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why we got so focused on  _ you _ ! We were trying to chase a ghost, completely blind to the fact that the whole time this Beast has been the sher-”

He’s cut off when Jesse reaches across the table and does his best to cover Genji’s lips with his hand. “Shh! Don’t go shoutin’ it from the rooftops jus’ yet. She can’t know ya know or there’s nothin’ I can do to help ya, got it?”

Genji nods quickly and takes a deep drink to keep from shouting out in excitement most likely. After a beat, he looks back at Jesse. “So...she’s been giving us the run around this whole damn time and we never realized.”

Jesse shrugs. “Likely she was doing her best to lead y’all off her trail, though she’s been remarkably good at covering her tracks so far.” He sighs. “She’s also been gettin’ it in her mind to frame me for these murders, which is why you were so sure I was in on it. We had a bit of a spat couple months out. Still hasn’t forgiven me for messin’ up her arm.”

Genji shakes his head. “How do we kill her?”

Jesse stares at him a long moment. “Reckon a bullet t’ the head’ll do the trick.”

“That’s it?”

“Guessin’ so. She didn’t take too well to teeth last time. What all you two got with ya?”

Genji hums. “Specialized equipment, mostly. Silver bullets, stakes, torches, various religious symbols and blessed items, that sort of thing.” He pulls his tablet back over and places it on the seat next to him. “If she’s a shifter then this won’t be all that difficult.” He pauses, thinking. “Hanzo shot his gun several times at the scene. If any of the shots hit, she’d be pretty hurt, but the next morning when I saw her she was just...angry. Do you know exactly what sort of shifter she is? Most carry their wounds equally in either form, though some have accelerated healing…” 

Genji starts to pull back out his tablet when Jesse speaks up. “A wolf ain’t the only thing she can be. I’m not sure what she is exactly, but she’s able t’ change into other things at will. She flew away from me a few times.” 

“Flew? I only know of a few things that can do that...I’ll need more time to research further.” Genji looks up. “Jesse,”

“Yeah?”

“Does she know Hanzo is at the hospital? Do they have his info?”

Jesse feels his stomach drop at the question. “I gave the woman at the front desk his wallet.”

Genji curses under his breath. “You need to get back to him. I...I’m going to act like I still trust her. I’m going to play dumb, and hopefully lure her out. But someone needs to watch Hanzo. She might try to finish the job if she finds out he’s there.”

Jesse nods. He can tell that Hanzo is still undisturbed, asleep and safe, for now. But if Madison started calling around, that would change in an instant. “I can keep an eye on him.” He agrees. “How are you gonna get her outta her office? Ya can’t make a move while you’re in town.”

“I haven’t figured that out yet… Maybe I can ask to meet her at my brother’s attack site, but I really don’t want to go back there if I can help it. Right now,” Genji starts, standing from the booth. “I need to find the best way to kill her.” He leaves some bills on the table to cover both he and Jesse’s meal. “Let me know if anything changes with my brother.” 

“Alright. Want me t’ bring ya back to your room?” Jesse looks Genji over. He can tell this morning has sapped all of Genji’s energy. “Won’t take but a second.”

Genji snorts, shaking his head. “Don’t feel like losing my breakfast so soon, thanks. Plus, I don’t want to be seen with you. I have an act to keep up. I don’t know anything, remember?” Genji gives Jesse a smile and a nod, and walks out the diner alone.

Jesse stands at the table for a moment longer, finishes his coffee with a final gulp, and waves goodbye to Rosita as he exists. 

Hanzo was his priority now. 


End file.
